162841
Special Dispatch: Al-Jazeera interviews Arafat ------------ 162906 Tikkun
catches flack from constituency (?) on refusniks ------------- 163215 +
31 marco on redesigning imc ------ 163365 + 2 Fisk on the ME farce (also
at 162822) ----------------- 163558 Chomsky on Palestine ---------------
160000 + 7 on Middle Eastern genes article from the observer (link to similar
stuff: oasistv.com/news/12-6-01-story-2.asp -- Looking for 'hirsuite'I
find: fffooiy, aaarrrr, pretty poetic that. I qoute here: A joycean and
a play of sorts (the first three google pages were taken up by sexsites
for other dirt on google see my /Content-refreshment.htm (my 3rd revolving
content, perm. URL) digitalbanff.com/payroll ==xxxx=== 162841 Special
Dispatch: Al-Jazeera interviews Arafat (english) by http://memri.org/news.html#1017616184
5:02am Tue Apr 2 '02 (Modified on 7:33am Tue Apr 2 '02) As the Israeli
army entered Arafat's headquarters in Ramallah, Arafat granted interviews
to leading Arab television channels. Following are excerpts from these
interviews: Posted: Sunday, March 31, 2002 Special Dispatch No. 361: Arab
Television Channels Interview Arafat Following the Palestinian terrorist
attacks during the Jewish holiday of Passover, on March 29, 2002, Israel
launched a military operation against the Palestinian Authority. As the
Israeli army entered Arafat's headquarters in Ramallah, Arafat granted
interviews to leading Arab television channels. Following are excerpts
from these interviews: Interview With Al-Jazeera(1) Arafat: "They decided
to take me as a prisoner, a deportee, or to kill me. No. I say to them
[that I will be] a martyr, a martyr, a martyr, and a martyr. …'And they
will be in the front line until Judgment Day'… and 'one of their martyrs
[who falls in the battle for Jerusalem] is worth 40 martyrs'(2)... Allah,
give me martyrdom in… [Jerusalem], the place from which the Prophet Muhammad
ascended to the heavens, and the place our lord Jesus was born… I may be
martyred, but certainly one of our boys or one of our girls will wave the
flag of Palestine over the walls of Jerusalem, over the minarets of Jerusalem,
and over the churches of Jerusalem. 'They think it is distant, but we know
it is imminent, and we are right'… 'They will enter the mosque as they
entered it for the first time'(3)... This is the path I have chosen… Allah,
give me martyrdom..." "We defend not only Palestine, the Arab nation, and
not only the holy Islamic and Christian places – but also all men of freedom
and honor in the world. This is our destiny. This is a divine decree..."
"Let those far and near understand: None, among the Palestinian people
or the Arab nation, will be willing to bow and surrender. But we ask Allah
to grant us martyrdom, to grant us martyrdom. To Jerusalem we march – martyrs
by the millions. To Jerusalem we march – martyrs by the millions. To Jerusalem
we march – martyrs by the millions. To Jerusalem we march – martyrs by
the millions." "This is a call to the Arab and Islamic nations and to all
the Christians in the world. This is the sacred land called in the West
'Terra Sancta,' Holy Land. We defend these holy places..." "We said to
the Americans: You must act. Where are you going? Don’t you know this will
shake the Middle East? I say to our Palestinian people: 'Oh mountain, the
wind will not shake you.' I say to our Arab nation: 'To Jerusalem we march
– martyrs by the millions.'" Question: "Mr. President, Sharon said in his
press conference that you have become an enemy, that you are not a partner
for peace, and that Ramallah has become a den of terrorism. How do you
respond to that?" Arafat: "Isn’t he [Sharon] a den of terrorism? The occupation
is not a den of terrorism? The F-15 and F-16 warplanes are not a den of
terrorism? The tanks that place me under siege are not a den of terrorism?
Bombing civilians is not a den of terrorism? Forty-seven thousand Palestinian
martyrs and wounded in this Intifada are not a den of terrorism? Destroying
the institutions of the Palestinian people is not a den of terrorism? Destroying
all the farms of the Palestinian people is not a den of terrorism?..."
Question: "Is it possible that the Israeli forces will try to assassinate
you?" Arafat: "They are more than welcome. I seek martyrdom. Allah, grant
it to me. Am I better than that heroic youth Fares Odeh? We are seekers
of martyrdom. We are all seekers of martyrdom. The entire Palestinian people
is a seeker of martyrdom..." Question: "Mr. President, do you think that
this extensive invasion by the occupation forces is in response to the
Netanya operation,(4) or a response to the Arab initiative at the Arab
summit?" Arafat: "No. It is a response to the Arab summit in Beirut…to
Crown Prince Abdullah’s initiative... This is an Israeli response to all
the peace attempts because they do not want peace. They do not want peace!!!
(sic) We must remember these things. These extremist elements murdered
my partner Yitzhak Rabin. Why did they murder him? Because they do not
want peace." "Why do they distort Camp David? They ask why we did not accept
Camp David. Should I surrender Jerusalem to them? Who can accept such a
thing? Tell me, who can accept such a thing?... They are the plunderers,
the murderers, the real terrorists in the entire world, in the entire world.
We are the only people in the world under occupation. We put our hand in
your [the Israelis'] hand... If this is the response to the Arab initiative,
what does it mean? Who are the terrorists? The Palestinians? The Arabs?
The Muslims? The Christians? Did we bomb the statue of the Virgin Mary
[in Bethlehem]? The entire world turned upside-down because of the Taliban's
attempt to destroy the statue of Buddha – is the statue of Mary not sacred?
Is she not the only woman mentioned in the Koran? Is there not a Koranic
chapter bearing her name?" Question: "Sharon says that now there is a war
without geographical borders. How do you assess the situation?" Arafat:
"By Allah, we consider all possibilities. Nobody is shaken, nobody is scared,
nobody is retreating. To Jerusalem we march – martyrs by the millions."
Interview With Egyptian TV(5) Arafat: “I want to tell you something: The
world went wild because of what the Taliban did to the statue of Buddha.
But when they destroyed the statue of the Virgin Mary, who is the only
woman mentioned in the Koran, no one in the world says a word... We defend
these holy places: To Jerusalem we march – martyrs by the millions." Question:
"...What do you plan to do while the tanks are two meters away..." Arafat:
"What two meters?!! They are bombing me. Can’t you hear the bombing?" Question:
"...Actually, we hear it from a distance..." Arafat: "They attacked positions
within the leadership compound." Question: "...The question was, what will
you do in this situation? How can the Palestinian leadership calm the situation?"
Arafat: "We are all seekers of martyrdom. We will not hesitate and will
not retreat... As I told you: To Jerusalem we march – martyrs by the millions."
Question: "Is this a specific response to the Netanya operation?" Arafat:
"Great! All this in response to the Netanya operation?…" Question: "It
is obvious that the sympathy and enthusiasm of the Arab street is not enough.
What do you demand now from the Arab leaders?" Arafat: "To act in the international
and global sphere with all the leaders in the world, in order to stop this
international and global terrorism led by Sharon. Don't talk to me about
terrorism in Kandahar, don't talk to me about Taliban terrorism, and don’t
talk to me about terrorism anywhere. The most important and most dangerous
terrorism is the terrorism going on in the sacred land..." Question: "Mr.
President, we are following [events] with you and we see the Israeli tanks
approaching... We are with you in our hearts and souls and we pray for
your safety and the safety of the Palestinian people." Arafat: "Man, don’t
wish me safety! Pray for me to attain martyrdom! Is there anything better
than being martyred on this holy land? We are all seekers of martyrdom..."
Interview With Abu Dhabi TV(6) Arafat: "Allah, grant us martyrdom in defense
of the Christian and Muslim places holy to you... We are in the front line,
and this people is defending these holy places…" "True, he [Sharon] besieges
us…True, he uses all the weapons prohibited by international law. True
he uses depleted uranium, true he uses toxic gases…but we are steadfast…
'And they will be in the frontline until Judgment Day'…" Endnotes: (1)
Al-Jazeera TV/Palestinian Authority TV, March 29, 2002. (2) This is a reference
to a Koranic verse. (3) This is a reference to a Koranic verse. (4) The
March 27, 2002 bombing of a Passover Seder held at a Netanya hotel. (5)
Egyptian TV/Palestinian Authority TV, March 29, 2002. (6) Abu Dhabi TV/Palestinian
Authority TV, March 29, 2002. Posted: Wednesday, March 27, 2002 Special
Dispatch No. 360: Saudi Government Paper: 'Billions Spent by Saudi Royal
Family to Spread Islam to Every Corner of the Earth' The March 1, 2002
edition of the Saudi government English weekly Ain Al-Yaqeen, extensively
detailed the Saudi Royal Family's efforts to spread (Wahhabi) Islam throughout
the world.(1) To read about specific locations, names of institutions,
and amounts of money spent in the U.S. and Europe, go to memri.org/sd/SP36002.html.
Efforts to Spread (Wahhabi) Islam (2) "?The determination of the Kingdom
to support Islam and Islamic institutions to the best of its ability was
evident from the formation of the Kingdom by King Abdul Aziz but it was
only when oil revenues began to generate real wealth that the Kingdom could
fulfill its ambitions of spreading the word of Islam to every corner of
the world, of assisting Muslim countries less well endowed economically
and of alleviating the suffering of Muslim minorities wherever they might
live." "When King Fahd gave his support, either personally or through his
government, to these institutions, it was also part of his purpose to challenge
and expose the caricature of Islam, which is widely promoted by sections
of the Western media?" "The voice of Islam and Arab culture is stronger
now than it has been for many decades and certainly far stronger than it
would have been without King Fahd's contribution, but the bias against
Islam, the tendency, in some quarters, to identify Islam with fanaticism
or even terrorism persists and has not been completely erased from the
popular mind in the West." The Cost is Astronomical "The cost of King Fahd's
efforts in this field has been astronomical, amounting to many billions
of Saudi Riyals. In terms of Islamic institutions, the result is some 210
Islamic centers wholly or partly financed by Saudi Arabia, more than 1,500
mosques and 202 colleges and almost 2,000 schools for educating Muslim
children in non-Islamic countries in Europe, North and South America, Australia
and Asia? All over the world the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia has supported
and contributed in the establishment of mosques and Islamic centers?" (1)
Ain Al-Yaqeen, March 1, 2002, www.ain-al-yaqeen.com. (2) Subtitles by MEMRI.
memri.org/news.html#1017616184 =========== A shame he encourages martyrdom
(english) by Russ Schultz 5:46am Tue Apr 2 '02 I think these are the sort
of statements from Arafat that the western leaders have so much trouble
with: essentially encouraging martydom (i.e. suicide bombers). I expect
until Arafat stands up and says to the world, both the western and the
arabic world, "targeting civilians is wrong, and my fatah will not have
that", the violence will continue its spiral of escalation: strike and
retaliation;intercession and revenge;back and forth until both sides are
so wrapped up in not backing down that there is no place to go. =========
see how you feel (english) by eieio 6:17am Tue Apr 2 '02 with a gun to
your head. would you so willingly die, or would you sell out your people
to save your life? seems to me that arafat is doing nothing differently
from socrates or jesus christ or jeane d'arc or thomas more. =========
The Rev. Jim Arafat (english) by COINTELPRO Tool 6:57am Tue Apr 2 '02 Jonestown,
Palestine. " would you sell out your people?" (english) by Russ Schultz
7:33am Tue Apr 2 '02 Arafat continuously sells out his people, but for
his pride rather than his life. Peace is the answer to prosperity of the
Palestinian people. Continuing the violence simply because of pride is
sick headed and wrong. Both Sharon and Arafat are guilty of this. --------------------------
162906 An Open Letter to American Jews (from indymedia.org.il) (english)
by Assaf Oron 7:31am Tue Apr 2 '02 (Modified on 9:08am Tue Apr 2 '02) Yesterday
I was informed of an interesting phenomenon: a peace-supporting Jewish
organization called Tikkun published an ad in favor of us, the Israeli
Reservist refuseniks [now over 1,000 Iraeli soldiers officers & generals],
and was Immediately bombarded with hate mails and phones from other American
Jews. What is more interesting is that even other Jews considering themselves
supporters of peace have denounced the Tikkun ad, to the extent that some
of the Tikkun Advisory Board members are resigning in order to minimize
the personal damage to themselves. An Open Letter to American Jews By Assaf
Oron [Israeli army reservist] Dear People, Yesterday I was informed of
an interesting phenomenon: a peace-supporting Jewish organization called
Tikkun published an ad in favor of us, the Israeli Reservist refuseniks
[now over 1,000 Iraeli soldiers officers & generals], and was Immediately
bombarded with hate mails and phones from other American Jews. What is
more interesting is that even other Jews considering themselves supporters
of peace have denounced the Tikkun ad, to the extent that some of the Tikkun
Advisory Board members are resigning in order to minimize the personal
damage to themselves. This has so saddened, alarmed and angered me, that
I find myself setting aside a half-day at the eve of Passover, and writing
this open letter to you all. As is my habit, it is quite long, so please
bear with me. Most of the 'civilized' attacks, so I understand, were seemingly
aimed at this or that detail of the Tikkun ad. This is nothing new to me.
Over the past two months since we came out with our own ad, I've heard
and read so many specific arguments about specific aspects of our act.
They range from petty nit-picking to plain ludicrous, and each and every
one of them can be refuted to dust in a matter of minutes. But the moment
you refute them, new specific arguments sprout up like mushrooms. It is
clear that there is something very general and non-specific behind all
this criticism. Therefore, if you allow me, I will start from the general
and only later turn to a couple of these specific issues. The general theme
is the tribal theme. A very very loud voice (and in Israel nowadays, it
is the only voice that is allowed to be fully heard) keeps shouting that
we are in the midst of a war between two tribes: a tribe of human beings,
of pure good -- the Israelis -- and a tribe of sub-human beings, of pure
evil -- the Palestinians. This voice is so loud, that it has found its
way even to the op-ed pages of the New York Times (William Safire, March
24 or 25). To those who find this black-and-white picture a bit hard to
believe, the same voice shouts that this is a war of life and death. Only
one tribe will survive, and so even if we are not purely good, we must
lay morality and conscience to sleep, shut up and fight to kill--or else,
the Palestinians will throw us into the sea. Does this ring a bell to you?
It does to me. As a little child growing up in Israel under Golda Meir
and Moshe Dayan, all I heard was that the Arabs are inhuman monsters who
want to throw us into the sea, they understand only force, and since our
wonderful IDF has won the Six Day War they know not to mess with us anymore
--or else. And of course, we must keep the Liberated Territories to ourselves,
because there's no one to talk with. Then came the Yom Kippur war, and
for a child of 7 it was the perfect proof that indeed the Arabs want to
throw us into the sea, and what a great opportunity it was for our glorious
IDF to teach them a lesson. I prayed for the war to continue to its natural
and final end --the complete surrender of all Arab armies. I was too small
to evaluate, then, how the war really ended; all these cease-fires and
talks were too complicated and boring, much more boring than a war. And
it seemed humiliating that WE should withdraw in these cease-fires; I Remember
that the re-opening of the Suez Canal was portrayed in our mass media as
a kind of defeat.. A few years passed and a funny thing happened: those
throw-us-into-the-sea Arabs came to talk with us, and in exchange for all
of Sinai they would sign a full peace. The IDF chief of staff (the late
Motte Gur, later a Labor Party minister) shouted that it is a hoax, that
we should not believe Saadat, but the politicians had to sign. Already
a teenager, I went and protested against the withdrawal from Sinai. It
seemed strange to me that most of the demonstrators were orthodox Jews.
After all, it was a purely logical issue: the Arabs are not to be trusted,
that's what we've learned from day one. Well, lucky for the country, the
government and the majority of the people employed a different logic, and
the peace with Egypt was not missed. But the throw-us-into-the-sea paradigm
immediately found new fields for play. There was an inconvenient reality
on the Northern border, and even though the forces on the other side (Palestinians
'Phew') had strictly adhered to a secret cease-fire for about a year, they
were Arabs and therefore could not be trusted. So we talked ourselves into
invading Lebanon and setting up a friendlier regime there. The mastermind
of the invasion was defense minister Ariel Sharon, and Shimon Peres, then
head of opposition, voted together with his party in favor of the invasion.
Only later, when it turned sour, and after many refuseniks already sat
in jail, would the main opposition turn against the whole affair. For me
at 16 it was also a turning point. When I understood that the government
had lied to me in order to sell me this war, I turned from 'center-rightist'
to 'leftist'. Sadly enough, it has taken me almost 20 more years, in a
slow and painful process, to understand how deeply the lies and self-delusion
are rooted in our collective perception of reality. Anyway, when Peres
withdrew most of our forces from Lebanon in 1985, the Arabs could still
not be trusted. And so, to soothe our endless paranoia and suspicion, we
created that perpetual source of death and crime ironically known as "the
Security Zone." It took many years, a lot of blood and Four Mothers --
against almost all politicians, generals, and columnists -- to finally
pull us out of Lebanon. In the long and hard way, we learned that even
the Lebanese are human beings whose rights must be respected. But not the
Palestinians. Because the Palestinians are too painfully close, like a
rival sibling (and, may I add, because they have always been so weak),
we have singled them out for a special treatment. Having them under our
rule, we've allowed ourselves to trample them like dirt, like dogs. We've
been doing it even to our own Palestinian citizens (especially before 1966),
but we have perfected Our treatment in this strange no man's land created
in 1967, and known as the Occupied Territories. There we have created an
entirely hallucinatory reality, in which the true humans, members of the
Nation of Masters, could move and settle freely and safely, while the sub-humans,
the Nation of Slaves, were shoved into the corners, and kept invisible
and controlled under our IDF boots. I know. I've been there. I was taught
how to do this, back in the mid-1980's. I did and witnessed as a matter
of fact, deeds that I'm ashamed to remember to this day. And fortunately
for me, I did not have to witness or do anything truly "pornographic",
as some friends of mine experienced. Since 1987, this cruel, impossible,
unnatural, insulting reality in the Territories has been exploding in our
face. But because of our unshakeable belief that the Palestinians are monsters
who want to throw us into the sea, we reacted by trying to maintain what
we've created at all costs. This meant of course employing more and more
and more force, with the natural result of receiving more and more and
more force in return. When a fledgling and hesitating peace process tried
to work its way through this mess, one major factor (perhaps THE factor)
that undermined it and voided its meaning was our establishment's endless
fear and suspicion of The Other. To resolve this fear and suspicion, we
chose the insane route of demanding full control of The Other throughout
the process. When this Other finally decided that we're cheating him out
of his freedom (and having too many mental disorders of his own to accommodate
ours as well), violence erupted, and all our ancient instincts woke up.
There they are, we said in relief, now we see their true face again. The
Arabs want to throw us into the sea. There's no one to talk with ('no partner",
in our beloved ex-PM's words), and they understand only force. And so we
responded as we know and love, with more and more and more force. This
time, the effect was that of putting out a fire with a barrel of gasoline.
And that's the moment when I said to myself, NO, I'm not playing this game
anymore. But what about the existential threat, you may ask? Well I ask
you, have you not eyes? Don't you see our tanks strolling in Palestinian
streets every other day? Don't you see our helicopters hovering over their
neighborhoods choosing which window to shoot a missile into? What type
of existential need are we answering in trampling the Palestinians? Prevention
of terror, I hear you say. Let me use the wonderful words of my friend
Ishay Rosen-Zvi: You are fighting against terror? What a joke. The Israeli
government, in its policies of Occupation, has turned the Territories into
a greenhouse for growing terror!!! We have sown the seeds, grown them,
nurtured them -- and then our blood is spilled, and the centrist-right-wing
politicians reap the benefits. Indeed, terror is the right-wing politician's
best friend. You know what? When you treat millions of people like sub-humans
for so long, some of them will find inhuman strategies to fight back. Isn't
that what the Zionists, and other Jewish revolutionaries argued about a
hundred years ago in order to explain the questionable strategies of survival
that Jews used in Europe? Didn't our forefathers say, Let us live like
human beings, and see how we'll act just like other human beings? So here's
the deal. I hope that the first part of this letter made it clear that
I don't buy the "they want to throw us into the sea" crap. It's just a
collective self-delusion of ours. But more importantly, I don't see tribes.
I see people, human beings. I believe that the Palestinians are human beings
like us. What a concept, eh? And before everything else, before EVERYTHING
else, we must treat them like human beings without demanding anything in
return. And no (to all die-hard Barak fans), throwing them a couple of
crumbs in which they can set up pitiful, completely controlled Bantustans
in between our settlements and bypass roads, and believing it to be a great
act of "generosity', does NOT come close to answering this basic requirement.
This requirement is NOT negotiable; moreover, in a perfect demonstration
of historical justice, it is a vital requirement for the survival of our
own State. After that, and based on the lessons of modern history, especially
that of the Arab-Israeli conflict (as was briefly described above), I do
believe that the Palestinians will calm down, and that the elusive "Security"
and peace will finally come upon us (as it did, incidentally, for almost
two whole years between Wye 1998 and Camp David 2000). I don't have any
insurance policy for that (well --almost none, except the solemn promise
of the entire Arab world), but remember - I have this funny notion that
they are human beings. In any case, we are seeing now all too well what
type of insurance policy the opposite paradigm is providing us. In the
meanwhile, I refuse to be a terrorist in my tribe's name. Because that's
what it is: not a "war against terror', as our propaganda machine tries
to sell. This is a war OF terror, a war in which, in return for Palestinian
guerrilla and terror, we employ the IDF in two types of terror. The more
visible one are the violent acts of killing and destruction, those which
some people still try to explain away as "surgical acts of defense." The
worse type of terror is the silent one, which has continued unabated since
1967 and through the entire Oslo process. It is the terror of Occupation,
of humiliation on a personal and collective basis, of deprivation and legalized
robbery, of alternating exploitation and starvation. This is the mass of
the iceberg, the terror that is itself a long-term greenhouse for counter-terror.
And I simply refuse to be a terrorist and criminal, even if the entire
tribe denounces me. That leads me to the first specific subject: are we,
the refuseniks, being persecuted and denounced, or are we enjoying the
wonderful Israeli tolerance and democracy and exploiting it to make trouble?
Well, I must admit that this is not yet the USSR or Pinochet's Chile, and
at least the Jews here enjoy a relative democracy (describing it as vibrant
or tolerant would be a gross error, but that is a different subject altogether;
maybe in another letter). I first must point out that the government and
IDF also enjoy the image of 'letting us speak', and it serves them well.
Secondly, in a rather sophisticated manner the establishment (with the
generous and voluntary help of the mass media) is effectively shutting
us up. The media has decided for us that there is no opposition. Thus,
a demonstration of 20,000 is reported in 5 seconds at the late-night edition,
and a demonstration of 500 outside a military prison is completely ignored.
The fact that right now there are over a dozen refuseniks in jail – the
largest number in twenty years -- is hidden from the Israeli public. The
story of Captain (resrv.) Itai Haviv and Sergeant (resrv.) Yair Yeffeth,
who demanded a full military trial in which they could prove that refusal
is innocence and that the order to serve in the Territories is illegal,
was not told anywhere except for a brief mention in the back pages of Haaretz.
So the public, of course, didn't learn that the IDF evaded answering these
demands, and that Itai Haviv will spend the Seder night in prison following
a ‘disciplinary hearing.' I hope the readers are intelligent enough to
know that if the media wanted, these stories would make the headlines.
Still, you keep hearing about us. That's the key word, ABOUT us. But you
don't hear us. You just hear people explaining, analyzing, mostly (in a
ratio of 99 to 1) attacking us. We have become the perfect 'hate hour'
figures, to reunite the tribe against (have you read 1984?) Petty "volunteer"
groups who organized against us, a mayor who called upon local governments
not to hire us, and a group of industrialists who called employers to fire
us, have all won their moment in the spotlight. No one cared to mention
that these are blatantly illegal calls (no, ‘the law' is remembered only
when we 'break' it). No one has tried to set limits to this discussion.
Moreover, the prime minister in one of his rare public addresses blamed
us for the wave of terror (us, not his catastrophic policies). The IDF
chief of staff can't stop talking about us; he sees us as a bunch of inciters
with a hidden agenda. So, ironically, the only thing protecting us from
long-term ‘gulag' imprisonment and from losing our jobs is public opinion
- the rather large pockets of support and sympathy among key sectors in
the Israeli public, and yes, support ads such as the one published by Tikkun.
The moment the government or IDF will think the lights are out, and no
one sees or cares -- they will find or invent the 'legal' clause (Israeli
politicians are experts in this) and throw those they believe to be our
"leaders" to jail for long terms. Remember, even poor Abie Nathan was thrown
in for two years, just because he dared speak with PLO personnel about
peace. But that's nothing, because the moment our government will sense
a "lights out" situation - a huge terror attack, an American attack on
Iraq - there will be a horrible bloodbath in the Territories, compared
to which the last year and a half will be remembered as a happy picnic.
And that brings me to the second specific issue, that of the Nazi allusion.
Some readers thought that the way the Tikkun ad said "obeying orders" was
an allusion to Nazi murderers' claim that they were "just obeying orders."
Rabbi Lerner has rightly pointed out to these readers, that automatic execution
of orders is a characteristic of all dictatorship, not just the Nazi one,
while refusal on moral grounds is a sign of democracy. I agree, but let
me be less polite and politically correct. After all, it's just my country
that's going up in smoke as I write. What is this? Does Israel have the
exclusive monopoly of labeling all its rivals as Nazis, and everyone else
has to shut up, even when reality starts speaking for itself? Parties that
support the essentially Nazi idea of deporting all Palestinians from the
country, have been part of our Knesset and our "legitimate" political map
since 1984. Recent opinion polls show that 35% of the Jewish public now
supports this "solution", as it is sometimes called. Leaders, Rabbis, and
just plain folk feel free to call openly in the mass media to eradicate
Palestinian cities with or without their tenants. Last weekend, Gen. (res.)
Effi Eitam, fresh out of the military and all ready to take the leadership
of the religious public and become a deputy or alternative to Netanyahu,
received a flattering cover story on Haaretz supplement. He unfolded his
chilling ideology, calling to expel those Palestinians who don't want to
remain in the Galilee and West Bank as serfs, to Jordan, and from Gaza
to Sinai. And he said this: why should us, the country poorest in land
resources, bear the burden of solving the Palestinian problem? Well I don't
know about you, but I remember some of the Nazi rhetoric in that dark period
between the Kristallnacht of 1938 and the beginning of the war, when Jews
were expelled from Germany but could find no safe haven anywhere else.
When I see a retired IDF general and rising political star use the exact
same Nazi rhetoric on Israel's most "liberal" newspaper, without any criticism
by his interviewer or the editors -- my hair just stands on my head in
horror. Let's move from the political scene back to the ground. My friend,
Captain (Res.) Dan Tamir, decided to refuse to serve in the Territories
about a year ago, after he realized what he'd done as a reserve regiment's
intelligence officer a few weeks before that. He realized he had laid out
the plans to convert a large Palestinian town into a closed ghetto. You
can find his full statement on our website, www.seruv.org.il. The vast
majority of Palestinians in the Territories now starve in such ghettos;
in those days of mercy when they are allowed to leave them by foot and
perhaps catch a taxi, these taxis are forbidden from using most of the
paved roads in the region. But why listen to a "leftist"? Let's hear it
from senior IDF officers. One of the top commanders in the Territories
was quoted in Haaretz (Jan. 25) as saying that in order to prepare for
potential battles in dense urban neighborhoods, the IDF must learn, if
necessary, how the German army "operated" in the Warsaw Ghetto. A week
later, the reporter confirmed this quote and the fact that this is a widespread
opinion in the IDF, and went further to morally defend it. A small number
of people, including myself, tried to raise a scandal over this. One letter
to the editor was published in Haaretz. A much tougher letter, which I
wrote, was never published, nor was my plea for a phone discussion with
an editor ever answered. The issue just died down. No one in Israel or
in the Jewish public abroad was interested. Where were all these holy souls,
who now scold Tikkun because they indirectly allude to the Nazi horror,
where were they all when a senior IDF officer proudly called, "in order
to beat the Palestinians, let's be Judeo-Nazis"? In my letter to Haaretz
I went further. Knowing the IDF mentality and adding one to one, I concluded
that the IDF is operationally prepared to invade refugee camps - an utter,
indefensible war crime - and through this leak to the press it is starting
to pressure the government and prepare the public opinion for the invasion.
The letter was not published. It was sent on February 2. A few weeks later
we all saw the horrors of the refugee camp invasions and the bloody revenge
attacks that followed culminating on Passover eve. And you know what? Army
generals and colonels morally and professionally pat themselves on the
back, because these invasions "prevented terror", and killed only dozens
and not thousands. (Note: in fact, the major reason limiting the bloodshed
was the "terrorists" responsible decision not to turn the camps into all-out
battlegrounds. But this may change in the next round.) In truth, I have
little hope that the Israeli public will wake up. The Israeli public, in
its fear and confusion, has made a decision (aided by the politicians and
mass media) to go to sleep and wake up only ‘after it is all over'. But
it won't be over, because while our mind sleeps our muscles tighten the
death grip, instead of doing the only sensible thing (which requires an
open mind) -- which is to let go. Will you guys join the hypocrite mobs
who sing lullabies to Israel and pounce upon the refuseniks, upon Tikkun,
to shut us up? Or will you finally take responsibility and be the true
friends that Israel needs now -- even if it means not being "nice" to Israel
for a while? As you sit tonight at the Seder table, please remember the
dozen or so refuseniks that spend this Seder in a military jail. More importantly,
please remember the thousand or so people, three quarters Palestinians
nd one quarter Israelis, who were here with us a year ago and have been
murdered. Most of them could have been here with us, if you and we had
acted sooner. We have now acted, done what little we can do. Please think
of the many thousands that may be doomed soon, if you continue sitting
on the fence. May you have a happy Holiday of Freedom, Please help us struggle
free from fear, racism, hatred and the deaths they produce. Yours, Assaf
Oron www.indymedia.org.il/imc/israel/webcast/... ======= ===== Where's
Woody Allen (english) by lolita 8:11am Tue Apr 2 '02 I've always wondered
why Woody has never commented on the situation in Palestine. Then again
maybe he's too busy diddling young girls. ======= If only everyone thought
so open-mindedly (english) by Bhal the Czar 8:39am Tue Apr 2 '02 Please,
everyone spread that powerful, honest piece of writing. Post it on message
boards, forward by e-mail, print it and distribute it by the hundreds.
Everyone deserves to know the truth. ===== He is a traitor and deserves
to be executed. (english) by truth teller 9:08am Tue Apr 2 '02 He supports
the sub-human Palistinian terrorists, the blood of his people is on his
hands. -------------------- 163215 Let's Discuss The Proposal To Change
The Newswire Some (english) by marco 12:26pm Tue Apr 2 '02 (Modified on
12:47am Wed Apr 3 '02) There's a proposal being discussed to make the global
newswire appear like so in the near future: indymedia.org/index-features.php3
====== i have a suggestion (english) by non-Zionist Jewish Anarchist 12:34pm
Tue Apr 2 '02 I'm getting more and more turned off from indymedia.org by
the Nazi anti-Jew Propaganda. Currently the first page is loaded with it.
You know what I'm talking about - the pictures, etc... GET THAT SHIT OFF
THE NEWSWIRE YOU RISK ALIENATING YOUR BASE. ======== Good idea (english)
by ak 12:37pm Tue Apr 2 '02 That's a whole lot better , choice articles
from around the world . nice one , will keep those nazi fucks from getting
front page ever again ! ======= Could you explain the change in format?
(english) by Scott 12:39pm Tue Apr 2 '02 scottistoxic@aol.com I'm not sure
I understand what the new layout is--could you explain it, and how it will
keep fascists off the wire? ======== dfs (english) by fdas 12:44pm Tue
Apr 2 '02 I'd throw my support behind the .indymedia.org/index-features.php3
It gives a great variety of news but still alows you to view the current
open newswire...I think it's a great way of fixing the problem without
resorting to all out censorship. The nazis can still post shit, we just
don't have to look at it ever time we load up the main page. :) =======
How About Two Newswires? (english) by Anonymous 12:51pm Tue Apr 2 '02 I
agree that the "Arabs/Jews are animals/the devil" stuff shouldn't be at
the top of the page. But it also seems like there should be a farily prominent
space at global.indy for open posting and discussion. How about a two-wire
system like Philly's, with features occupying the top half of the page
and posts the bottom? www.phillyimc.org ============ I like it (english)
by Evan Sisson 12:54pm Tue Apr 2 '02 The new format works well but I would
like to ask if it is possible to have more stories up at one time, this
would keep things up longer and avoid the sometimes impossible to use newswire.
========== I Agree W/ Anon (english) by King Pin 12:59pm Tue Apr 2 '02
Taking the fron page entirely out of the hands of Indy readers would turn
the site into another institution, with "discussion forums" hidden in the
background like CNN.com. Put the features at the top, but leave room for
real people to have their say where someone will see it. Maybe the best
stories from the bottom could be bumped to the top too? ========= sure..
(english) by Mahakaal 1:01pm Tue Apr 2 '02 how about a message board though?
========== WHAT CENSORSHIP? (english) by outside the whale 1:04pm Tue Apr
2 '02 I cant believe it .The first 2 comments are about censorship. If
u want censorship turn on the T.V. or read a magazine. The whole reason
i get news from indymedia is to AVOID censorship. How would you know how
stupid the nazi extremists are unless you can learn about them. We all
need to be investigators not ostrichs. ======== good idea (english) by
anonymouse 1:04pm Tue Apr 2 '02 Good idea but who decides what postings
to feature on the main indymedia site? For example, my stuff (162262&group=webcast
) is hidden here for some reason but is front page news at http://italy.indymedia.org/
. Why was it hidden here? Why is it front page material there? Who's gonna
decide? Not that I really care. It looks like the non-main indymedia sites
are much better anyway. ====== Local (english) by B. Franklin 1:06pm Tue
Apr 2 '02 thisyearsfashion@yahoo.com Maybe not a bad idea. There's so much
stuff on the overall newswire, while not as much on the locals. But it
probably wouldn't hurt to pay more attention to the local -that's one of
the things mainstream media does poorly that it could do better. Honestly,
Indymedia doesn't do much for smaller cities either, but maybe in time
it will, doesn't hurt to start moving that direction. ======== looks ok
(english) by Hi 1:08pm Tue Apr 2 '02 I really don't care about the nazi
israeli porn or whatever, its no bother. Just as long as the wire stays
open to anyone and free of censorship... ========= Very Good Idea (english)
by PJD 1:08pm Tue Apr 2 '02 It is a very good compromise. The newswire
is still there for all to use, while new visitors don't get right-wing
rants and wacky conspiracy theories as their first impressions. Please
do it! ======= two newswires good, four newswires bad (english) by the
herd 1:15pm Tue Apr 2 '02 i like this suggestion, for all the reasons that
have been posted plus another one--there would still be a way to post urgent
information where people would see it quickly. if internationals in palestine
need to let the world know what's going on in a matter of minutes, they
should be able to do it on the front page without waiting for jerusalem.indymedia
to approve it and send it in, especially when their office is under fire
and they may have to evacuate. ====== A suggestion (english) by EarthMan
1:21pm Tue Apr 2 '02 address: Canada ALL of the flamebait is easy to see.
Would it be that hard to just scan ALL uploads and have the ones containing
"certain" words or wording be listed to a seperate site. So anyone that
is interested in arguing or posting rebuttalls can still do that and keep
the rest of the wire clear for discussion about more relevant issues. The
indy wire has become the same as the "Corporate Media" publications...lately
it is flooded with "Middle East" content just as in the Corp media. NOT
GOOD. "They" have, in effect, managed a good deal of censorship here by
the flood of crap taking up "your" space and "our" time. I think splitting
it off to allow the flame posts is the correct way to deal with this. NOT
on front page...the main page could have a link to all of the removed crap
and those that wish to can access them of their own accord. I personally
do not bother reading ANYTHING that contains statements or text with certain
words, like "LEFT" RIGHT" "Nazi" Fascist" etc...etc...etc... To ME these
words have nothing to do with moving our world forward. To consistently
think of things in these concocted formats IS NOT forward thinking it is
merely thinking within the narrow contruct that the word(s) imply. Freedom
of thought is essential Freedom of the press is essential Freedom of the
indevidual is esential Freedom from oppression is essential I mean if you
do not feel that we are under attack when "they" can "spray" our cities
with who knows what. Put food on the store shelves containing who knows
what, poison our air, our water, kill our fish(food), kill the land so
we can not grow healthy food, make laws that make it illegal to argue with
all of that....Then you have lost the instinct to survive...and probably
won't... ======== Life Befor Death Death Before Dishonour Stay true to
YOUR OBSERVATIONS what YOU SEE and HEAR...never allow the words of others
to change those things... Peace ======= Figured it out (english) by Scott
1:28pm Tue Apr 2 '02 scottistoxic@aol.com Two things-- One: I figured out
the newswire changes--duh--it seems to be a compromise--maybe a good one,
we'll have to see. My guess is that if the nazi-types can't get on page
one with their crap, they won't bother spamming so much. I think it's also
a good idea to feature the local sites too, and trust in the editorial
staff to make decisions about content. Two: I made an attempt to start
a similar dialogue on the spate of nazi spam by posting an essay by Mao
called "Combat Liberalism" to the newswire. The point is that being "liberal"
with fascists can be very dangerous--here we're just talking about a website,
but in the real world we're potentially talking about people's lives. By
"liberalism" I don't mean people who vote Democrat. When it comes to the
website, I agree with the first person who responded to THIS post that
people are leaving Indymedia because of all the racist, fascist, and often
anti-semitic posts. In the real world, being "liberal" means being less
than honest with people in your organizations or affinity groups, which
can lead to division that puts people at risk. The piece outlinbes different
kinds of "liberalism" and is worth thinking about. ========= I Like this
Idea (english) by little ant 1:31pm Tue Apr 2 '02 This idea (of having
all the Indymedia features listed on the front page) is a good idea. It'll
get the smaller IMCs some attention. And as for the newswire on this site,
the example shows that its still there. It just won't be on the front page
the first time you go there. COuld we choose the newswire as a personal
default if we want? At least this will help prevent Nazis from trying to
make Indymedia look bad. ======== shit yeah (english) by kit-e-kat 1:39pm
Tue Apr 2 '02 i'm on the pro- side here too. as a relatively new indymedia
surfer, i was very nearly turned off the site completely in the past week(s)
when reading the shite that i've seen posted. and more (prominent) local
coverage is a plus too. ======= excellent idea (english) by 49328238 1:47pm
Tue Apr 2 '02 I like the idea of using feature stories from the local IMCs.
The whole point of indymedia is that it is a decentralized coalition of
local independent media. And feature stories from local IMCs are for the
most part under democratic or consensus control via the local indymedias.
So if people want to write a feature story, they can contact their local
or regional IMC. I think that we should still keep the newswire open for
publishing, but it should be put at the bottom half of the front page,
and the top half should look like the link at http://www.indymedia.org/index-features.php3.
This new style is really neat, and it definitely legitimizes indymedia
and prevents the cointelpro types from spamming the important stuff on
the front page. However, we still need to keep an open discussion forum,
and I agree with the other poster, that we can't keep the newswire buried
in the bowels of the site like CNN does, or require that people get accounts
to post or any facist crap like that. So in summary, I like the new layout
and give it two thumbs up. However, I do agree with the idea but we still
need to keep the newswire easily accessable from the front page, although
it doesn't have to be the first thing people see. peace. -anonymous ========
Very Good (english) by Daniel Camolês 1:53pm Tue Apr 2 '02 camoles
at ig.com.br Very good proposal. It is not only good, but necessary. As
a alternative for keeping the good articles longer in the page, you can
divide the articles by topics. Currently, there is too many things in just
one page. If you divide them by categories, people would spend less time,
because they can look only to the topics that they want to. It also would
be nice to have the possibility that an article could be in more than one
topic. Anyway, this ideia is really necessary for surviving now. The topics
division is also important, but it can wait a little, and after you implement
the proposal, I think you will have more time to think about the topics
division. Keep up the good work! ======== Bottom-up media is not censorship
(english) by j 1:59pm Tue Apr 2 '02 Please institute this proposal as soon
as possible. It is NOT censorship to feature media content created by independent
journalists at local IMCs instead of letting Nazis and pornbots dominate
the newswire. If there is a newswire (which should be changed to the King
George IV proposal ASAP too), it should remain one link away from the center
page. The global indymedia site is not a place for people to flame-war,
it is a place to gather and disseminate information that is lost in the
corporate media. Putting this proposal into place will make Indymedia a
valid daily source for news and commentary across the globe, and threaten
government tools and their corporate masters far more than the current
shitty message board/USENET redux does currently. All of those who complain
about so-called "censorship" ignore the fact that indymedia was expressly
created to feature news and opinion from a grassroots, non-corporate perspective,
not to serve as a free-for-all message board subject to state and Nazi
manipulation. There are a billion places on the internet for that kind
of garbage; not indymedia. In fact, a global newswire is even fairly undemocratic
itself since it give more power to the poster than one who posts at a local
site. This is because many people will come to the global site first, and
those who post their are rewarded by people seeing their posts more often.
Its like the assholes who spam every single IMC newswire with their pet
story. Its rude and authoritarian. Indymedia should be as bottom-up a process
as possible. Local should have open publishing newswires, more locals should
be formed, but the global site, to give a fair voice to all, should only
feature the work of the many, many volunteers who put features together
that makes indymedia more than a bullshit flame site. Otherwise, indymedia
will always be extremely subject to disinformation and those who look to
discredit it. The sacred cow of "censorhip" is nothing more than an excuse
for people to act childlishly here, like they can across the internet.
If we want to change the world, we'd better get serious. ====== A Question
to Tech People (english) by someone 2:11pm Tue Apr 2 '02 Would it be possible
to have two newswires stacked in one column, with the top consisting of
local features using the proposed new format and the bottom being a continuation
of the current newswire? ===== continue? (english) by tom 2:19pm Tue Apr
2 '02 "continuation of the current newswire"? Why do we want a continuation
of that? It's been coopted by Nazis and right-wing fucks. We can do better
than to just continue it. The front page should have the features newswire
only to highlight all of the great features being done at the locals. If
people want to troll-bait, flame, and post Nazi propaganda, there are a
billion other places to do that. Indymedia "is a collective of independent
media organizations and hundreds of journalists offering grassroots, non-corporate
coverage. Indymedia is a democratic media outlet for the creation of radical,
accurate, and passionate tellings of truth." Corporate reposts, Hitler
worshiping, link-pimping, and whiny flamewars are none of the above. ======
Fascist/Racist Spam Page (english) by KD 2:20pm Tue Apr 2 '02 Having a
dedicated space for the best from the local IMCs is a good idea, but I
can imagine "editorial" problems with cliques and so on. I like the free-for-all
aspect of the newswire. There's lots of great stuff. But I am getting sick
of all the fascist/racist crap. How about this as a technical fix - in
addition to the local IMC space: Add a new button next to the Publish button
on the Publishing Form. The new button is called Publish Fascist/Racist
Spam, and it sends the post to the Fascist/Racist Spam Page. (Or maybe
it sends it to National Review or someplace like that.) If someone posts
Fascist/Racist Spam to the regular newswire three times, they get barred
from further posting to the regular newswire. Would this work? Would IMC
be able to identify and block Fascist/Racist Spammers on the regular newswire?
Would there have to be some sort of appeals court for spammers who don't
like being relegated to the Fascist/Racist Spam Page? ===== yes, little
ant's idea will work (english) by marco 2:25pm Tue Apr 2 '02 Little ant,
that will work and you'll be able to do that. If you click the part that
says \open wire\, every time you go to http://www.indymedia.org it'll bring
that page to you unless you click \highlights\ and then it'll always bring
you to the highlights page every time you go to http://www.indymedia.org
I hope that was clear. I tried to read back just now and I almost have
no idea what I'm talking about. Basically whichever one you opt for once
will be there until you click for the other one. So there will be a bunch
of people who will have the newswire as their default. I'm sure the anti-semites,
goons, anti-semite goons and people who act like anti-semites and goons
will still try to take advantage of an assault on their senses, but any
moment they don't like it, they can click on the highlights one and basically
never have to deal with those blithering idiots anymore. The techies who
coded this idea had no idea at first how brilliant this was going to be.
They were just trying to make the best of a horrid situation. But then,
isn't that usually the way? marco www.freespeech.org/kokopeli/musicforfree...
====== Re: Fascist/Racist Spam Page (english) by . 2:30pm Tue Apr 2 '02
I could only go along with that if Leninists were defined as Fascists.
Followers of murderous totalitarian idelogies are all one breed, irregardless
of the colors of their flags. People who call moderate Republicans "Nazis"
while bedding down with Maoists make me want to vomit. Blocking people
would require logging of ISPs. That's a bad idea all around. Does everyone
remember what happened in Seattle shortly after the Summit of the Americas?
===== yay! (english) by barry 2:36pm Tue Apr 2 '02 that looks great! organisation
is NOT censorship. and people are always welcome to join editorial collectives
- if you can submit an article, you can join an editorial collective. ====
Right on! (english) by anenome of the state 3:36pm Tue Apr 2 '02 Right
on. Let's get that Nazi nonsense of the wire. I'm in consensus on this!!!!
==== was thinking about an IMC meta site (english) by metamatrix 7:55pm
Tue Apr 2 '02 and thought this... Newswire: The newswire would be a meta-newswire
of selected content from all IMCs. Members of the various regional collectives
would publish pointers to stories on their sites by supplying information
for the following fields: (a) title, (b) story summary, (c) story type
(eg. article, audio, video or picture), (d) web address (URL of the original
story), (e) the language of the story (eg. english, french or spanish,
etc.), (f) the publish password for that collective (should be same as
the admin password for the regional site) When this information had been
submitted the newswire would add it to the top of the heap in the form:
TITLE, REGIONAL IMC NAME, TIME STAMP and the link would be directly to
the story on the regional site. That way we would end up with a newswire
of what each regional collective considered the best posts to their newswire
(or at least the ones they felt should be pushed to the national newswire).
Obviously it we be nice to add a simple "Push to global newswire" tick
box to the story admin page of the regional sites. Perhaps this could be
a design consideration for Active2. For now I think we should just plan
on having a publish form similar to every other leading to an alternate
newswire. This is a deceptively simple project which I think a number of
areas would be interested in adopting (think Global, USA, EU, etc.) It
would be nice to allow newswire filters by regional IMC (ie. get a listing
of all the Alberta stories, etc.). Multi-language support is important
-- we should provide English, French and Spanish etc. ====== NAZI PUNKS
FUCK OFF!! (english) by Not Jello 7:57pm Tue Apr 2 '02 I love Indymedia
but I can not stand the anti-Jewish Nazi attitudes we are spammed with.
I think these are really dumb skinheads who just do not realize that this
is not a rightwing hate site. I am sickened by what is happening to the
Palestinians right now, but I love my Jewish brothers and sisters. I was
raised Christian and I am sickened by the acts of many Christian and Muslim
groups but I do not hate Cristians. It is that simple. ===== Yes, get the
crap off (english) by elokey-i 8:09pm Tue Apr 2 '02 wow, waaay back when
I used to live in Seattle the stupid neo-nazi/homophobic/anti-semitic/sexist
crap made me stop looking at IMC. Now I have a friend in Palestine and
I'd like some news please, so yes, consensus from this NYC anti-authoritarian.
Openness is good; allowing yourselves to be abused isn't! clean it up,
stop the cointelpro/skinhead *@&*&&^ from degrading these fine
sites. for the velorution elokey-i ====== And those independent of IMCs?
(english) by uas 10:41pm Tue Apr 2 '02 hope4a@yahoo.com How will this work
for those of us who are putting up artwork (for instance), but aren't representing
any IMC? I've been posting artwork for my syndicate for maybe a year now,
but I remain unaffiliated with any IMC. unmediated artists syndicate =======
Brilliant (english) by Jim 12:47am Wed Apr 3 '02 Great change. It allows
people to choose if they want to view the features newswire or the open
publishing wire. That means the open publishing wire will be available
for everyone, all the time, just like it is now, but so will a collection
of featured stories from the 70 IMCs everywhere. Nice way to deal with
the situation. I'm hoping there will soon be other steps made to give us
(site readers who don't want to see nazi spam all the time) a way to highlight
articles that are good and shelve the ones that aren't, like the Philadelphia
IMC site does. Not to replace the open newswire, but as another choice.
I think the fact that this is the proposal Indymedia is making to deal
with all the racist/fascist posts, rather than to eliminate the newswire
entirely or to make it something that is completely moderated by indymedia
editors, speaks very positively for Indymedia. It's a solution to deal
with the problem that allows for more choices by readers rather than less.
------------------ Rather than waging a “war on terror” the Israeli soldiers
looked as if they had entered the wilderness of occupation, just as they
did in Lebanon back in 1982, when “Closed Military Areas” were about as
common — and worthless — as confetti. The Palestinians hid in their homes,
shutters down, eyes peering from behind blinds, occasionally sneaking on
to a balcony to wave when they saw a Westerner in the street. A few children
could be seen running between houses. At what age, I wonder, does war transmute
itself from a game into a tragedy? Farce and terror in the ‘closed area’
of Ramallah By Robert Fisk, Special to Arab News RAMALLAH, 3 April — Journalists
were ordered out of Ramallah late on Sunday night. It’s an old trick. Whenever
the Israeli Army wants to stop us seeing what they’re up to, out comes
that most preposterous exercise in military law-on-the-hoof: The “Closed
Military Area”. So Monday was a good day to do the opposite, to go look
at what Israel’s army was up to. And I can well see why it didn’t want
reporters around. A slog down a gravel-covered hillside not far from an
Israeli checkpoint, a clamber over rocks and mud and a hitched ride to
the Palestinian refugee camp of Al-Amari on the edge of Ramallah told its
own story; a tale of terrified civilians and roaring tanks and kids throwing
stones at Israeli Jeeps, just as they did before Oslo and all the other
false hopes which the Americans and the Israelis and Arafat brought to
the region. Rather than waging a “war on terror” the Israeli soldiers looked
as if they had entered the wilderness of occupation, just as they did in
Lebanon back in 1982, when “Closed Military Areas” were about as common
— and worthless — as confetti. The Palestinians hid in their homes, shutters
down, eyes peering from behind blinds, occasionally sneaking on to a balcony
to wave when they saw a Westerner in the street. A few children could be
seen running between houses. At what age, I wonder, does war transmute
itself from a game into a tragedy? It was a gray, cold, wet day for a “war
on terror” and the first part of the journey followed the usual pattern
of farce and fear. There were Palestinians aplenty walking down the track
to the old quarry south of Ramallah. The Israelis know all about this little
by-pass, of course, but usually can’t be bothered to control it. To tell
the truth, it was an Israeli officer at the nearby checkpoint at Kalandia
on Easter Sunday who smilingly advised me to enter Ramallah by this little
track. And beyond a pile of boulders and dirt and concrete blocks — long
ago piled up by the Israelis — was a minibus driver who promised a trip
to the Ramallah Hotel. It was, of course, too good to be true. No sooner
had we reached the Al-Amari refugee camp — home under occupation of the
Palestinians who originally fled their homes in what is now Israel in 1948
— than the drivers’ courage drained away. A woman called Nadia and her
tiny son offered me a guided tour through the camp. There were young men
in the streets, tough young men in parkas and jeans who were watching every
side road and alley. And there were children around the camp, shrieking
with excitement and fear every time an Israeli border police Jeep drove
towards them. Everyone was waiting for the Israeli raid to begin. It was
a doctor who offered me a lift to central Ramallah, a journey we accomplished
with considerable anxiety, driving slowly down the side roads, skidding
to a halt when we caught sight of a tank barrel poking from behind apartment
blocks, forever looking upwards at the wasp-like Apache helicopters that
flew in twos over the city. Our car bumped over the tank tracks gouged
into the tarred roads. The nearer we got to the center, the fewer people
we saw. Downtown Ramallah was a ghost town. So Oslo has come to this. There
were the usual claims of house vandalization and some rather more disturbing
allegations of theft by Israeli troops — “baseless incitement whipped up
by the Palestinian Authority,” went the Israeli reply, which might have
been more impressive had Israeli troops not stolen cars and vandalized
homes during their invasion of southern Lebanon in 1982. Then, for the
few journalists left at the Ramallah Hotel — and a clutch of largely French
and Italian peace “activists” (earrings and Palestinian scarves, and in
one case a nose ring, being in profusion) — came the moment of high drama
and utter comedy. A Merkava tank, roaring like a lion, drove slowly to
the front of the hotel and then, very slowly, swiveled its barrel towards
the front door. Peaceniks charged back into the foyer, screaming at reporters
to stand in the road holding their passports above their heads. And that,
I suppose, is what the occupation of Ramallah is all about. All day, the
streets vibrated to the sound of armor. Between apartment blocks and villas
we could watch the Merkavas clattering between trees or veering off the
highway into fields. On a hill above the city, another tank sat hull down
in the mud, its barrel pointing towards Arafat’s scorched headquarters
prison. The matchstick snap of a rifle would be followed by the bellow
of a shell or the sound of a heavy machine-gun. And then the empty world
would return to birdsong and the faint buzz of an Apache high above us.
With little time before dusk, leaving Ramallah was even more farcical and
dramatic than entering. With a small group of French and Italian journalists,
I slogged through the afternoon sun for more than an hour before realizing
we were lost. True to its nature, war can be a surreal creature and so
there we were by late afternoon, marching — all smiles — towards two Israeli
tanks, whose frightened crews were huddling between their vehicles, opening
their ready-to-eat ration packs. Less surreal — far more real, in fact,
— was the Merkava tank which came thrashing down a lane toward us an hour
later. There was much flourishing of European passports and timid waving
before the hatched-down beast passed us in a blue fog of spitting stones
at 30km an hour. Yet the Palestinian families on our six-mile journey out
of town would creep from their front doors and wave to us and offer us
coffee. A child ran across a field, chasing a horse, and a clutch of families
walked gingerly between houses, watching for the slightest glimpse of the
Israelis. One old man drove a mule up a side road with a broad smile. And
I realized then, I think, that it was these ordinary people, the families
and the old man and the child with the horse, who are the real resistance
to the Israelis — those who refuse to be intimidated from their equally
ordinary lives. So if this was a “war on terror”, it was a little difficult
to know who was the more terrorized in Ramallah Monday: The Palestinians,
or the Israeli soldiers who have gone to war for Sharon. (The Independent)
========== do something now (english) by ad 3:10pm Tue Apr 2 '02 Cut and
paste the following text into an email, make the necessary changes for
your country, and email it to the office of your political leader. The
idea is to have a massive influx of public opinion to the leaders' offices.
If anybody's into it, please post email links to your country's leaders
below, so that the whole operation could be launched from this page. Mr.
Prime Minister, As you are aware, the situation in Israel and the Occupied
Territories has escalated to a dangerous level. According to the latest
news reports, journalists have been ordered out of Ramallah. As a citizen
of Canada I strongly urge you, Mr. Prime Minister, to exert maximum diplomatic
pressure on the Israeli government to allow journalists to remain in the
Occupied Territories in order to document the ongoings there and to thereby
help prevent what I am sure you will agree could be a catastrophe in the
making. I remind you that this is a matter of urgence as the situation
changes on an hourly basis. Sincerely, - Office of the Prime Minister of
Canada E-mail: pm@pm.gc.ca Fax: 613-941-6900 Office of the Prime Minister
80 Wellington Street Ottawa K1A 0A2 ======== busted again liars (english)
by zzz 5:31pm Tue Apr 2 '02 According to 99% of the posters on this site,
there are no liberal reporters in mainstream media anywhere... UNLESS...
Scan the newswires.. When a leftist likes the content of a Reuters/AP/AFP/etc..
article it's ok and all the other leftists clap along. When the leftists
don't like the content, there is no possible way that it's true if it has
been published by one of those same sources (in fact it's most likely a
CIA/MOSSAD/CSIS/FSB plant). --------------------- Chomsky interviewed on
Palestine {4-2-02} (english) by Z NET 7:40pm Tue Apr 2 '02 It is convenient
in the US, and the West, to blame Israel and particularly Sharon, but that
is unfair and hardly honest. Many of Sharon's worst atrocities were carried
out under Labor governments. Peres comes close to Sharon as a war criminal.
Furthermore, the prime responsibility lies in Washington, and has for 30
years. That is true of the general diplomatic framework, and also of particular
actions. Israel can act within the limits established by the master in
Washington, rarely beyond. Interview With Chomsky (by Z Magazine) In Depth
Discussion on Israel/Palestine April 2, 2002 Z: Is there a qualitative
change in what's happening now? I think there is a qualitative change.
The goal of the Oslo process was accurately described in 1998 by Israeli
academic Shlomo Ben-Ami just before he joined the Barak government, going
on to become Barak's chief negotiator at Camp David in summer 2000. Ben-Ami
observed that "in practice, the Oslo agreements were founded on a neo-colonialist
basis, on a life of dependence of one on the other forever." With these
goals, the Clinton-Rabin-Peres agreements were designed to impose on the
Palestinians "almost total dependence on Israel," creating "an extended
colonial situation," which is expected to be the "permanent basis" for
"a situation of dependence." The function of the Palestinian Authority
(PA) was to control the domestic population of the Israeli-run neocolonial
dependency. That is the way the process unfolded, step by step, including
the Camp David suggestions. The Clinton-Barak stand (left vague and unambiguous)
was hailed here as "remarkable" and "magnanimous," but a look at the facts
made it clear that it was -- as commonly described in Israel -- a Bantustan
proposal; that is presumably the reason why maps were carefully avoided
in the US mainstream. It is true that Clinton-Barak advanced a few steps
towards a Bantustan-style settlement of the kind that South Africa instituted
in the darkest days of Apartheid. Just prior to Camp David, West Bank Palestinians
were confined to over 200 scattered areas, and Clinton-Barak did propose
an improvement: consolidation to three cantons, under Israeli control,
virtually separated from one another and from the fourth canton, a small
area of East Jerusalem, the center of Palestinian life and of communications
in the region. And of course separated from Gaza, where the outcome was
left unclear. But now that plan has apparently been shelved in favor of
demolition of the PA. That means destruction of the institutions of the
potential Bantustan that was planned by Clinton and his Israeli partners;
in the last few days, even a human rights center. The Palestinian figures
who were designated to be the counterpart of the Black leaders of the Bantustans
are also under attack, though not killed, presumably because of the international
consequences. The prominent Israeli scholar Ze'ev Sternhell writes that
the government "is no longer ashamed to speak of war when what they are
really engaged in is colonial policing, which recalls the takeover by the
white police of the poor neighborhoods of the blacks in South Africa during
the apartheid era." This new policy is a regression below the Bantustan
model of South Africa 40 years ago to which Clinton-Rabin-Peres-Barak and
their associates aspired in the Oslo "peace process." None of this will
come as a surprise to those who have been reading critical analyses for
the past 10 years, including plenty of material posted regularly on Znet,
reviewing developments as they proceeded. Exactly how the Israeli leadership
intends to implement these programs is unclear -- to them too, I presume.
It is convenient in the US, and the West, to blame Israel and particularly
Sharon, but that is unfair and hardly honest. Many of Sharon's worst atrocities
were carried out under Labor governments. Peres comes close to Sharon as
a war criminal. Furthermore, the prime responsibility lies in Washington,
and has for 30 years. That is true of the general diplomatic framework,
and also of particular actions. Israel can act within the limits established
by the master in Washington, rarely beyond. Z: What is the meaning of March
30th's Security Council Resolution? The primary issue was whether there
would be a demand for immediate Israeli withdrawal from Ramallah and other
Palestinian areas that the Israeli army had entered in the current offensive,
or at least a deadline for such withdrawal. The US position evidently prevailed:
there is only a vague call for "withdrawal of Israeli troops from Palestinian
cities," no time frame specified. The Resolution therefore accords with
the official US stand, largely reiterated in the press: Israel is under
attack and has the right of self-defense, but shouldn't go too far in punishing
Palestinians, at least too visibly. The facts -- hardly controversial --
are quite different. Palestinians have been trying to survive under Israeli
military occupation, now in its 35th year. It has been harsh and brutal
throughout, thanks to decisive US military and economic support, and diplomatic
protection, including the barring of the long-standing international consensus
on a peaceful political settlement. There is no symmetry in this confrontation,
not the slightest, and to frame it in terms of Israeli self-defense goes
beyond even standard forms of distortion in the interests of power. The
harshest condemnations of Palestinian terror, which are proper and have
been for over 30 years, leave these basic facts unchanged. In scrupulously
evading the central immediate issues, the March 30 Resolution is similar
to the Security Council Resolution of March 12, which elicited much surprise
and favorable notice because it not only was not vetoed by the US, in the
usual pattern, but was actually initiated by Washington. The Resolution
called for a "vision" of a Palestinian state. It therefore did not rise
to the level of South Africa 40 years ago when the Apartheid regime did
not merely announce a "vision" but actually established Black-run states
that were at least as viable and legitimate as what the US and Israel had
been planning for the occupied territories. Z: What is the U.S. up to now?
What U.S. interests are at stake at this juncture? The US is a global power.
What happens in Israel-Palestine is a sidelight. There are many factors
entering into US policies. Chief among them in this region of the world
is control over the world's major energy resources. The US-Israel alliance
took shape in that context. By 1958, the National Security Council concluded
that a "logical corollary" of opposition to growing Arab nationalism "would
be to support Israel as the only strong pro-Western power left in the Middle
East." That is an exaggeration, but an affirmation of the general strategic
analysis, which identified indigenous nationalism as the primary threat
(as elsewhere in the Third World); typically called "Communist," though
it is commonly recognized in the internal record that this is a term of
propaganda and that Cold War issues were often marginal, as in the crucial
year of 1958. The alliance became firm in 1967, when Israel performed an
important service for US power by destroying the main forces of secular
Arab nationalism, considered a very serious threat to US domination of
the Gulf region. So matters continued, after the collapse of the USSR as
well. By now the US-Israel-Turkey alliance is a centerpiece of US strategy,
and Israel is virtually a US military base, also closely integrated with
the militarized US high-tech economy. Within that persistent framework,
the US naturally supports Israeli repression of the Palestinians and integration
of the occupied territories, including the neocolonial project outlined
by Ben-Ami, though specific policy choices have to be made depending on
circumstances. Right now, Bush planners continue to block steps towards
diplomatic settlement, or even reduction of violence; that is the meaning,
for example, of their veto of the Dec. 15 2001 Security Council Resolution
calling for steps towards implementing the US Mitchell plan and introduction
of international monitors to supervise the reduction of violence. For similar
reasons, the US boycotted the Dec. 5 international meetings in Geneva (including
the EU, even Britain) which reaffirmed that the Fourth Geneva Convention
applies to the occupied territories, so that critically important US-Israeli
actions there are "grave breaches" of the Convention - war crimes, in simple
terms - as the Geneva declaration elaborated. That merely reaffirmed the
Security Council Resolution of October 2000 (US abstaining), which held
once again that the Convention applied to the occupied territories. That
had been the official US position as well, stated formally, for example,
by George Bush I when he was UN Ambassador. The US regularly abstains or
boycotts in such cases, not wanting to take a public stand in opposition
to core principles of international law, particularly in the light of the
circumstances under which the Conventions were enacted: to criminalize
formally the atrocities of the Nazis, including their actions in the territories
they occupied. The media and intellectual culture generally cooperate by
their own "boycott" of these unwelcome facts: in particular, the fact that
as a High Contracting Party, the US government is legally obligated by
solemn treaty to punish violators of the Conventions, including its own
political leadership. That's only a small sample. Meanwhile the flow of
arms and economic support for maintaining the occupation by force and terror
and extending settlements continues without any pause. Z: What's your opinion
of the Arab summit? The Arab summit led to general acceptance of the Saudi
Arabian plan, which reiterated the basic principles of the long-standing
international consensus: Israel should withdraw from the occupied territories
in the context of a general peace agreement that would guarantee the right
of every state in the region, including Israel and a new Palestinian State,
to peace and security within recognized borders (the basic wording of UN
242, amplified to include a Palestinian state). There is nothing new about
this. These are the basic terms of the Security Council resolution of January
1976 backed by virtually the entire world, including the leading Arab states,
the PLO, Europe, the Soviet bloc, the non-aligned countries -- in fact,
everyone who mattered. It was opposed by Israel and vetoed by the US, thereby
vetoed from history. Subsequent and similar initiatives from the Arab states,
the PLO, and Western Europe were blocked by the US, continuing to the present.
That includes the 1981 Fahd plan. That record too has been effectively
vetoed from history, for the usual reasons. US rejectionism in fact goes
back 5 years earlier, to February 1971, when President Sadat of Egypt offered
Israel a full peace treaty in return for Israeli withdrawal from Egyptian
territory, not even bringing up Palestinian national rights or the fate
of the other occupied territories. Israel's Labor government recognized
this as a genuine peace offer, but decided to reject it, intending to extend
its settlements to northeastern Sinai; that it soon did, with extreme brutality,
the immediate cause for the 1973 war. The plan for the Palestinians under
military occupation was described frankly to his Cabinet colleagues by
Moshe Dayan, one of the Labor leaders more sympathetic to the Palestinian
plight. Israel should make it clear that "we have no solution, you shall
continue to live like dogs, and whoever wishes may leave, and we will see
where this process leads." Following that recommendation, the guiding principle
of the occupation has been incessant and degrading humiliation, along with
torture, terror, destruction of property, displacement and settlement,
and takeover of basic resources, crucially water. Sadat's 1971offer conformed
to official US policy, but Kissinger succeeded in instituting his preference
for what he called "stalemate": no negotiations, only force. Jordanian
peace offers were also dismissed. Since that time, official US policy has
kept to the international consensus on withdrawal (until Clinton, who effectively
rescinded UN resolutions and considerations of international law); but
in practice, policy has followed the Kissinger guidelines, accepting negotiations
only when compelled to do so, as Kissinger was after the near-debacle of
the 1973 war for which he shares major responsibility, and under the conditions
that Ben-Ami articulated. Official doctrine instructs us to focus attention
on the Arab summit, as if the Arab states and the PLO are the problem,
in particular, their intention to drive Israel into the sea. Coverage presents
the basic problem as vacillation, reservations, and qualifications in the
Arab world. There is little that one can say in favor of the Arab states
and the PLO, but these claims are simply untrue, as a look at the record
quickly reveals. The more serious press recognized that the Saudi plan
largely reiterated the Saudi Fahd Plan of 1981, claiming that that initiative
was undermined by Arab refusal to accept the existence of Israel. The facts
are again quite different. The 1981 plan was undermined by an Israeli reaction
that even its mainstream press condemned as "hysterical," backed by the
US. That includes Shimon Peres and other alleged doves, who warned that
acceptance of the Fahd plan would "threaten Israel's very existence." An
indication of the hysteria is the reaction of Israel's President Haim Herzog,
also considered a dove. He charged that the "real author" of the Fahd plan
was the PLO, and that it was even more extreme than the January 1976 Security
Council resolution that was "prepared by" the PLO, at the time when he
was Israel's UN Ambassador. These claims can hardly be true, but they are
an indication of the desperate fear of a political settlement on the part
of Israeli doves, backed throughout by the US. The basic problem then,
as now, traces back to Washington, which has persistently backed Israel's
rejection of a political settlement in terms of the broad international
consensus, reiterated in essentials in the current Saudi proposals. Until
such elementary facts as these are permitted to enter into discussion,
displacing the standard misrepresentation and deceit, discussion is mostly
beside the point. And we should not be drawn into it -- for example, by
implicitly accepting the assumption that developments at the Arab summit
are a critical problem. They have significance, of course, but it is secondary.
The primary problems are right here, and it is our responsibility to face
them and deal with them, not to displace them to others. --------------------
Journal axes gene research on Jews and Palestinians (english) by Guardian
2:00pm Fri Mar 29 '02 (Modified on 5:34pm Fri Mar 29 '02) It took them
that long to find this out. Now if only we can convince the bible-thumpers.
A keynote research paper showing that Middle Eastern Jews and Palestinians
are genetically almost identical has been pulled from a leading journal.
Academics who have already received copies of Human Immunology have been
urged to rip out the offending pages and throw them away. Such a drastic
act of self-censorship is unprecedented in research publishing and has
created widespread disquiet, generating fears that it may involve the suppression
of scientific work that questions Biblical dogma. 'I have authored several
hundred scientific papers, some for Nature and Science, and this has never
happened to me before,' said the article's lead author, Spanish geneticist
Professor Antonio Arnaiz-Villena, of Complutense University in Madrid.
'I am stunned.' British geneticist Sir Walter Bodmer added: 'If the journal
didn't like the paper, they shouldn't have published it in the first place.
Why wait until it has appeared before acting like this?' The journal's
editor, Nicole Sucio-Foca, of Columbia University, New York, claims the
article provoked such a welter of complaints over its extreme political
writing that she was forced to repudiate it. The article has been removed
from Human Immunology's website, while letters have been written to libraries
and universities throughout the world asking them to ignore or 'preferably
to physically remove the relevant pages'. Arnaiz-Villena has been sacked
from the journal's editorial board. Dolly Tyan, president of the American
Society of Histocompatibility and Immunogenetics, which runs the journal,
told subscribers that the society is 'offended and embarrassed'. The paper,
'The Origin of Palestinians and their Genetic Relatedness with other Mediterranean
Populations', involved studying genetic variations in immune system genes
among people in the Middle East. In common with earlier studies, the team
found no data to support the idea that Jewish people were genetically distinct
from other people in the region. In doing so, the team's research challenges
claims that Jews are a special, chosen people and that Judaism can only
be inherited. Jews and Palestinians in the Middle East share a very similar
gene pool and must be considered closely related and not genetically separate,
the authors state. Rivalry between the two races is therefore based 'in
cultural and religious, but not in genetic differences', they conclude.
But the journal, having accepted the paper earlier this year, now claims
the article was politically biased and was written using 'inappropriate'
remarks about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Its editor told the journal
Nature last week that she was threatened by mass resignations from members
if she did not retract the article. Arnaiz-Villena says he has not seen
a single one of the accusations made against him, despite being promised
the opportunity to look at the letters sent to the journal. He accepts
he used terms in the article that laid him open to criticism. There is
one reference to Jewish 'colonists' living in the Gaza strip, and another
that refers to Palestinian people living in 'concentration' camps. 'Perhaps
I should have used the words settlers instead of colonists, but really,
what is the difference?' he said. 'And clearly, I should have said refugee,
not concentration, camps, but given that I was referring to settlements
outside of Israel - in Syria and Lebanon - that scarcely makes me anti-Jewish.
References to the history of the region, the ones that are supposed to
be politically offensive, were taken from the Encyclopaedia Britannica,
and other text books.' In the wake of the journal's actions, and claims
of mass protests about the article, several scientists have now written
to the society to support Arnaiz-Villena and to protest about their heavy-handedness.
One of them said: 'If Arnaiz-Villena had found evidence that Jewish people
were genetically very special, instead of ordinary, you can be sure no
one would have objected to the phrases he used in his article. This is
a very sad business.' http://www.observer.co.uk/ international/story/0,6903,605798,00.html
========== fascinating article... (english) by dannette 2:42pm Fri Mar
29 '02 lady_w_fan@yahoo.com for people looking to prove zionism is racism,
in its relationship to palestine, this article is demonstrative. i'll be
sure to share it with others. i do have a couple questions, though. 1)
aren't we homosapien sapiens pretty much all genetically the same, with
only neglible differences? and what sort of ways are which jewish and other
middle eastern people common, whereas the others of us are so different?
2) also, there are germanic, slavic, and indo-european jews... are all
these people genetically practically identical to their middle eastern
brethren and sistren, according to the study? this whole discussion is
fairly over my head but these are the curious concepts that leap out at
me. perhaps i could get in touch with the lead author on these questions.
thanks! ======== the author (english) by Mahakaal 3:00pm Fri Mar 29 '02
The name of the author is Robin Mckie. And the only contact information
I could find can be found here http://www.observer.co.uk/contacts/
page/0,7646,327121,00.html ======== This Doesn't Make Sense (english) by
Bible Thumper 3:04pm Fri Mar 29 '02 "Such a drastic act of self-censorship
is unprecedented in research publishing and has created widespread disquiet,
generating fears that it may involve the suppression of scientific work
that questions Biblical dogma." If my Sunday School memories are correct,
Isaac and Ishmael, the founders of the respective Jewish and Arab lines,
were brothers. Doesn't this research, assuming it is sound, actually reinforce
Biblical dogma? ======= Bible thumper (english) by Mahakaal 3:21pm Fri
Mar 29 '02 I think what was implied is that there is no such thing as a
"chosen people". And that particular "concept" is rascist. Also if there
were not so much blind Christian zionist(an oxymoron?) support for the
state of Israel, things would have been amicably solved a long

time ago. That was the premise I believe. I leave you with a quote from
Kissinger, "I ask Rabin to make concessions, and he says he can't because
Israel is too weak. So I give him arms, and he says he doesn't need to
make concessions because Israel is strong"-Delibrate Deceptions Oh, you
are right about the fact that there is no genetic difference between "Jews"
and "Arabs".No sarcasm intended. ========= Thats right Bible Thumper (english)
by vish varnay 3:35pm Fri Mar 29 '02 Your are so correct Ishmael and Isaac
were brothers. But remember one was a Bastard Child. ======= UC San Francisco
doing same research (english) by Spider Jerusalem 3:41pm Fri Mar 29 '02
And so far, they dont appear to be self-censoring anything. http://www.oasistv.com/news/12-6-01-story-2.asp
Get over it, Zionazis! If you're the "chosen people" then so are the Palestinians
(whether or recognize their state or not), because they're your blood brothers.
*Sj ========== They all look alike to me (english) by Harry 5:34pm Fri
Mar 29 '02 They just dress different. ------------------------- http://csf.colorado.edu/
mail/pen-l/2002I/msg02081.html RE: Origins of 'Dutch Disease' by Devine,
James 25 February 2002 15:56 UTC Schaap forwards the following web-page
on the "dutch disease." And, I was right, it wasn't oil but natural gas.
http://www.aims.ca/Publications/ gift/remittance.html here's the text,
without graphs: Looking the Gift Horse in the Mouth: The Impact of Federal
Transfers on Atlantic Canada by Fred McMahon AIMS Senior Policy Analyst
[query: what is AIMS?] - Chapter 2 - The Remittance Region: Dutch Disease
and the Atlantic Ailment [T]ransfer payments have in one form or another
have never lived up to expectations in terms of creating a more self-reliant
economy. Why this is so is not clear because of the nature of the data.
There is an obvious need for more research in this area. (Savoie and Winter,
1993, pg. 8) Beginning in the late 1960s, the Dutch economy was damaged
by what should have been good news -- the discovery of natural gas in the
Slochteren offshore fields. Offshore revenues did not increase the economy's
productivity, but the inflow of these revenues led to an appreciation of
the guilder; 8 the price of domestically produced goods rose relative to
the price of foreign goods, a deviation from purchasing power parity. Dutch
exports were suppressed and imports replaced domestically produced goods;
output and employment fell, particularly in the trade-oriented sectors
of the economy. This phenomenon came to be known as Dutch disease. Dutch
disease can be a particularly debilitating economic malady because of the
crucial role the trade sector plays in economic growth. A version of Dutch
disease can be traced back to the 14th century when the influx of new world
precious metals had a similar impact on Spain's key cloth and cereal industries,
though their decline was hastened by a number of other counterproductive
policy moves on the part of the monarchy. Britain's North Sea oil discovery
had something of the same consequences for the British economy, although
oil and gas exports represented only a small part of Britain's GDP. Nonetheless,
some of Britain's economic stagnation in the 1970s may, in part, be traced
to the rise of offshore revenues; declines in oil prices may have been
partly responsible for the economy's renewed strength in the 1980s. "Analysts
were puzzled by the combination [in the 1980s] of an apparently healthy
British economy (particularly in the export sector), large capital outflows,
and a pound at record lows against the dollar"" (Yarbrough and Yarbrough,
pg. 632). 9 The inflow of funds due to a petrochemical bonanza is comparable
to an inflow due to net government regional subsidies, or virtually any
other type of inflow where the largest part of the inflow is unrelated
to the productive aspects of the economy. 10 (This is particularly true
of petrochemical money in times of suppressed supply, when price is unrelated
to and far exceeds the cost of production, producing wind-fall revenues
for the producing country which flow into the country both through the
profits of the producers and through tax revenues.) Winter (1990), while
not referring to Dutch disease, showed how a similar mechanism was at work
with regional subsidies. His insight was straightforward and intuitive.
One can visualize, he says, the flow of regional subsidies into the region
as a flow of goods and services. This goes a long way to explaining the
negative impact of regional subsidies. As Winter says, "You can imagine
the impact on a dairy farmer in this region if Ontario decided to supply
us with free milk." In other words, as noted in the previous chapter, the
flow of money into the region in a pure accounting sense must go to buy
goods and services produced outside the region and this suppresses demand
for locally produced goods - the Atlantic Ailment. In a nation with its
own currency, the balance between financial and product flows works through
a currency appreciation, which makes imports more competitive than many
domestically produced products. The fact that the same balance is required
in the face of massive regional subsidies leads to a strong prediction
that increases in regional subsidies of the magnitude under consideration
must be accompanied by an increase in relative pay rates. The prediction
is precisely borne out by the data. Graph 5 shows that Atlantic Canadian
relative pay rates moved sharply upwards in the early 1970s coinciding
with the rise in regional subsidies. (Consistent data for Graph 5 is available
only to 1982; see also Graph 7.) The mechanisms leading to higher relative
wages are not difficult to understand. Courchene (1995, pg. 125) estimates
that total federal transfers equal at least 50 per cent of all wages and
salaries for each of the Atlantic provinces, save Nova Scotia, where the
total is in the mid-40 per cent range. The profusion of government work,
government subsidized work and make-work programs effectively subsidized
by unemployment insurance would force local employers to raise pay rates
to compete with these alternatives. As well, by increasing the regional
endowment of wealth, the relative value of leisure increased. Mansell and
Copithorne (1986) and Vanderkamp (1986) provide an overview of the literature
on the impact of federal programs, particularly UI, on wages in Atlantic
Canada; the DRM Advisory Group study on export oriented firms (1994, pg.
207) cites "wage rate and other forms of government competition" as a factor
weakening the region's ability to export. (See Chapter 3 for a brief discussion
of wage pressures and the existence of "voluntary" unemployment implied
here.) Chapter 1 discussed the fact that Atlantic Canadian producers were
unable to pass rising wages on to prices. Squeezed between rising wages
and price resistance, standard economic theory would predict that regional
employers would be forced to reduce employment. This contention is well
supported by the data. The gap between Canadian and Atlantic Canadian unemployment
rates doubled in the early 1970s and the number of hours employed Atlantic
Canadians worked weekly declined relative to the rest of the country. (See
Graphs 5 and 6; consistent data for Graph 6 is available back only to 1966.)
Not all transfer programs are equal in their impact. This research examines
the whole package of regional subsidies, but it is highly likely that the
unemployment insurance program - which is an important component of regional
subsidies and offers extended benefits in Atlantic Canada - is disproportionately
responsible for the labour market impact, though other regional subsidies
certainly played a role. UI subsidized long periods of unemployment, enabling
workers easily to trade off work for leisure; it supported part-year employment
industries; and it allowed workers to lengthen their search time. There
has been excellent research done on the UI program, in particular its negative
impact on regional employment; see in particular May and Hollet (1995)
and May and Gunderson (1996). As Vanderkamp (1986, p. 100-101) notes: Suppose
that an industry has been hit by an unexpected decline which will produce
a 50 per cent reduction in output and employment unless there is a dramatic
lowering of the wage rate. For the typical worker, a six-month layoff will
still generate 80 per cent of the normal annual income before tax (with
60 per cent unemployment insurance replacement), and the after-tax situation
is likely to be better. Moreover, the six-month layoff may be worth something
in terms of leisure and related activities. As a result wage reduction
is likely to be unacceptable .... As regional subsidies were reduced in
the 1980s, relative regional pay rates moved downwards, but only with a
lag. (See Graph 7; Statistics Canada data calculations were changed in
1983 and, rather than artificially trying to join the differing series,
I thought it more accurate to show the series separately.) Many economists
believe pay rates are far stickier downwards than upwards, and this may
help explain the lag. More troubling, the gap between Atlantic Canada's
and Canada's unemployment rates has not narrowed with the decline in regional
subsidies. This may be because a) the most serious labour market distortions,
those created by UI, have not been subjected to serious reform, at least
until the recent Employment Insurance reform package, though many argue
these reforms are far from adequate, and b) many economists believe that
once unemployment rates are increased - even if by apparently temporary
factors - there is a tendency for unemployment to stick at a higher level
for at least a time, though it is well beyond the scope of this work to
review this voluminous and controversial literature. The discussion of
wage rates in Atlantic Canada leads to another prediction with even more
negative consequences for the region. Put very loosely, the theory of factor
price equalization, as it relates to labour and capital, states that a
poor region with low pay, excess labour, and low capital intensity will
attract additional capital due to the potential savings on labour costs.
Price of labour, wages, is equalized among regions. The problem for this
region is that artificially inflated wages would lead to the prediction
that movement of capital to the region would be discouraged as wage rates
rose. Again, this prediction is supported by the facts. (Graph 8 shows
the development of business capital spending over the full period under
consideration; Graph 9 shows capital spending in relation to the wage and
earnings series-consistent data for these labour series is available only
between 1961 and 1982.) The gap in per capita business investment between
Atlantic Canada and Canada was narrowing in the 1960s, though the graph
seems to suggest some cyclical component. This cyclical component may be
partly responsible for the narrowing in the late 1960s. Nonetheless, after
the dramatic rise in regional subsidies and the region's relative increase
in wages, the gap between regional and national per capita business investment
doubled on average. It's troubling that the gap did not decline in the
1980s but some of the wage stickiness discussed earlier may be at work,
and it is also possible that the graph does show evidence of a secular
decline in the gap in the late 1980s. Government investment in Atlantic
Canada has been above the national average for most of the period. (See
Graph 10.) However, on a per capita basis the gap favouring Atlantic Canada
in government investment is minute compared to the gap in business investment.
(See Graph 11.) And, while much government investment doubtless went to
worthwhile infrastructure projects, there is little evidence that government
infrastructure grew more dynamically in Atlantic Canada than in the rest
of Canada during this period. The lack of a twinned commercial highway
through the region by itself suggests this. Much of what was entered as
government investment went to overbuilding fishing industry infrastructure,
to the support of declining industries, and to what would be better described
as make-work projects. It is beyond the scope of this work to investigate
in depth what government entered as investment on its books, but this certainly
would make an interesting topic for future research. This chapter has outlined
how the massive increase in subsidies in the 1970s might be expected to
suppress economic growth through what might loosely be termed an "appreciation"
effect. A number of predictions fall out of this analysis and they are
consistently borne out by the data: relative economic growth rates, net
exports, pay rates, unemployment rates, hours worked and investment levels
all move abruptly and significantly in the direction and at the time predicted.
----------------- I would humbly suggest that this analysis has very little
to do with the 'Dutch disease' but is rather an attempt to use a kind of
'flavour of the month' economic fad to attempt to discredit region development
policies in support of neo-liberal economic orthodoxy. I actually wrote
two books on the subject, the last published in the early 1980s and have
reviewed a number of studies that deal with this topic since, but whatever
the pros and cons of Canadian regional development policies have been,
I can not see for the life of me what relation they have to the Dutch disease.
Paul Phillips, Economics, University of Manitoba ------------Two questions:
1) Can one theoretically avoid Dutch Disease by pricing your natural resource
export in dollars, as is commonly done with oil? Wouldn't your currency
not immediately appreciate then? And instead you'd build up large dollar
reserves? Those latter could cause appreciation of the local currency or
local currency inflation depending on how you used them -- but it seems
you would also have several policy options to counteract that. And aren't
most of the world's primary exports priced in dollars? In which case, aren't
the Dutch and the English kind of an exception -- rich countries (with
trusted currencies) who are primary product exporters? 2) This article
says Dutch disease started in the late 60s. But wouldn't it have had to
have waited until 1973 and the breakdown of the Bretton Woods fixed exchange
system for this mechanism of currency appreciation to come into play? I
thought BW revaluations were far and few between; less than four years
seems an unusually short response time. Michael -------------------- looking
for 'hirsuite' I find: pfffooiy, aaarrrr, pretty poetic that. I qoute here:
A joycean and a play of sorts (the first three google pages were taken
up by sexsites for other dirt on google see my /Content-refreshment.htm
(my 3rd revolving content, perm. URL) http://www.digitalbanff.com/payroll
Almagest James L. Swanson He has begun, as will be donne, at wooded foot,
green valley. Uphill he run, through forest come, into the alpine, sally.
Rockrubble to glacier he tickles the ridge on clodhopper adamantine. Sweet
liberty! The wicked itch to press the bonedry waterspart where the immovable
moves aside, where billypiss piddles to oceans wide. Tripping over the
bear champlain he drones a scrubpine ditty. Bless the mahotean coffee and
the aztec chocolat. Preserve the fly in the ointment, Keep my belly hot.
Lure the foarm riverhen Soon, before it's shot. Deep in the bouldered abyss,
whitewater sparkle and hiss. Blackfly buzzz Breeze off, bud. Shadows drag
thru lofty hummocks, downcast eyes scan granite grit. So Skinhunter's in
immanual Lemnos when women in flocks were charmed by his looks. Here are
no women but only rocks, saltpeter to pepper Paul's tony rot, amatory not.
Easpoor of ostrich, noon, a sneeze on the dusty road. Incense of ripe Pandora.
Conjunctive limbo sidesprouts, olfactory bulbs and smelling salts, millions
of comets flock pell mell. High in the mountains a shepherd fell. -----
On the revolutions of the heavenly spheres James L. Swanson Foursquare
and several meals a day, our fivefodders and sexmudders went hubbubbling.
Lapping each others' behind the back, stretching Hooker's loi on spelt
Sealeys, pulling rank. All blamboozy eyed from hidden argentas. In brief,
working awed hours. In shorts, shooting the breeze. They wore heaven a
hell ova time. From the planes of Noradco-Nozzler to the craters where
livers got lillipills. Aegis ago under an avuncular bumbershoot. Handsfull
of worriers being taken for a leek, chanting the owed to the tundric urne.
Hennypennyone preying oder profitizing mit head huncovered disfiggers the
head. Many megatoons before the breakup of our nuclear family. Groined
ceiling. War an insade joke, by job. The ridgepole cracked. Yawn knave
strutted around the buttress, arrayed like Sullivan in all his glories,
dressed to the emcee square. Non fingo hypothico he, uzum erectus oedifuss
on a giant edipussy. Einstein's asgard asa newton. Ein zwei dry fear ist
argot. Around about the decent of the oracles, he was honked till dief
and dumfounded as the farmer in Adelle. (Produce by.) Gossamer inprism
hymn. Has hymen many a gander since the kurds wayed in. Couldn't keep up
his end of the hind. Brow falling stern, gifted with gab, he gravely gulped
a glass of bitters. Them let without salts vomit up the first stone. He
was brot some yonder bread, he would not eat. Nor would he drink the water.
Urpsprung the countess of Salvary, who dancing dropt her garter. Chaste?
Change why to the aye and add e s p. Wood ye be willow to gift up yr stumack
while those all round are waisting theirs? Get thee behind me, Romeo. Fowl
bowel. He flagged in his randy career. Chest ribbing, madam. Wash you wart.
The new groom sleeps clean if the slipper fits. Haul men are crated equal.
Spar the rod, spoil the bladder. Snakes in her goldilocks. Laff can be
foney, sept when yr tickled to death. Bugs in her ears. You do knead a
schoolmarm to vive la difference tween rite and wrung. Incognito ergot
soma. Turn Isis. Sis in rut. Now for twinces. Wishupon it were still kosher
to green more wives than one. In the stray scent of the verd. Mormon's
dozen sweet superstarlets, greglorious as bingo. Double yr pleasure. Ball
three. Gnawstick penumbra. Aromatic auspices and flamenoids. Under pain
of bread and spread of butter, the sun beat the wind in disrobin the rover.
What'll we tell the kids? Derrière de rien. He wired for wine. One
percent flockululation, ninety-nine bottles of perspurspiration. She dialed
for bread. She raised a skirt. Esau and call trump. Hirsuite? Whiskers,
but not on her face. Yeast we forget, he is risen. Waged the rugged tree.
Mock my worts. Hair trigger. Ramparts. The master debator went off his
nut. Sirens. A moment of inertia. Swing animus. Oldest trick in the book.
Who nose what evol? Bock. Take yr base.Ex folio. They gambol in brood delight.
A troywate of flint. Tinder's the knight. Such a burn of bushes. Touch
wood, punk. Yule remember what happen to the bay what cried wharf. Got
dockt. But what happen to the capn who smote his doter by the ocean? Cot
the flew with his pants down, dickering with nativity. Was in the end booted
out of the gluckkliche farting contest. Atomic piles. Oct, this egg is
roi in the muddle. That's the usual sign. If in doubt about what to sacrifice,
two ripe melons will suffice. [ Payroll Jelly ] - [ Next ] On the lodestone
and magnetic bodies James L. Swanson Of all the firstwater nobs of the
second order ever eaten alive by mice, none was more differentiable than
Bishop Hatto, who by the way sported a convincing moustache as well. A
number of poor harvests during the dork ages compelled the Bishop to herd
the peasants into a barn and set whole shooting match on fire. They are
like mice, only good to devour the corn. An army of mice subsequently attacked
the Bishop, drove him up a wall, and polished him off. There's another
one the English won't get. The Latin dictionary found among the remains
suggests scholarly inclinations. Cross yr eyes and string the matrix. Then
there was the soothsayer who died of laughter at having outlived the predicted
hour of his demise. My own trouble began Tuesday. I was headed for the
garage to get a shot of O-2. By all vector gauges I have the spin of half
a weekling. How did I know the Easter bunny had come? Because of the snickers
in my ears. Whispered by what I thought were my brothers in larmes to my
sisters in lay. Pass me the knock out drops, I'm drenched to the half shell.
Steamed in bed, animal to animal, crooning crybaby songs over Evelyn's
keel. She was a mobius stripper at the Klein Bottleneck. Who could desiphon
her frumious rosetta bud? Transplanted into the psychopompic vernacula,
you could say I ran in native mode to free myself of the combines of investigation.
I stopped at the lightbench to trace up some rays. In came the message.
Cursors, tinfoiled agleam. Beta Decay Central to Nuclear Burning. The Italian
navigator has landed in the new world. Myth america I loan to see you.
Fly yr flagel at half staph on doupeltime. I pinched myself to see if my
chips were rad hard. Discreet is my muddle name, but what in hell is all
the Christian nomanclatter? You look familiar, but I can't replace yr face.
My father was a one-lunger poised at top dead center. His father before
him was Black Jumbo. My mother was a plutonium blonde. Noticals aslanging,
fantom fighters phlying, they evolved by jerks. Bateau ivre. Yea verily
tho I walk thru the wallet of the shawdo of Urano I will fear no mushroom
clouding my cranston. Tho they leadeth me by still detectors and maketh
me lie by corporate coffers, with enough shovels you can dig where I'm
coming to. Pluck yr magic twanger, Froggy, and hold him in escrow. He's
got his stations of the wires crossed on the way to Boot Hill. Sircharge
him with violating Hubble's Law. Read him his columnist's manufesty, Mickey
Mantic. Drain him, Bookie. Ignorance is its own excuse. Head crash. As
anybody who knows nobody knows, the missing dark matter is composed of
dead brain cells. Tubular bells I hear. In one's ear and out the other's.
Remember to fall back on polynomial time when it's neither daylight nor
dark. Spring forward to exponential time when it's all hands on foot. During
the blind man's balmy holoday. O captain mercaptain, sulphur us not the
little children. The oui ours of the mourning, when the earthworms turn
over in their groves. Tick. Grownless fears of cosmoonauts and seafarers.
Tock. Quell her, ate il? Dick's o'cock and all's 'swell. Then one foggy
hockey night, from the trouser trolls came the starry messenger. Jumpin
jimnosperms! Snatched from the Jawsovass by yr mother's tongue. From the
east three wiseguy anchormen rode the airwaves. Blest with inborn terrors
of metabolism, stillbeans runt deep. Like true bit players they knocked
at every dusty dormatory but never knuckled under. Their progress was filmed
over world locations. (Thanks to the gallivanting man and galvanizing women
who forged this diskomentary. Honorable cabinetmaker and his unter counterfitters.)
Reel whorld, rewind again to the. The unelectable modality of the televisible.
You can tell true norths by the swagger of their satellite dish. Loose
lip sync ship, admirable. Don't make waves for the only snowplow in Hawaii.
Mice eeny attic. Those salami days are hef a yearbook aweigh. Come the
revoluption we'll elute to a different drummer, yr insolvency. Hault! Hoo
ghosts there? Friend or photon? Mirage, blinded with jalousies. Why would
a blind man don a shirt with callers? Bomblast and flustian be darned,
it was out of one freudian pun or innuendo. Networks in the howls. Noble
gas. Two headaches are better than onions. Maybe now I can get some sleeps.
Bone a petit, Aquinas. The moon is rosin, starstrummin. Zodiac is what
we dodecadance to. The fairbooted fringe philosopher's second rerun, loitering
up Main Street, our fourth instar inveterate. Did ya gettys address, port?
The bells I hear. What noose from the felt branches? The infidel castrato.
Hoist the bastard to lynch. At the bay of pigs, when the crocketts got
hoarse, we hung a second looie. O joyous day! Guillotine of character intoxication.
He'll die in vain to get life. We ooh it to ahselves as free radicles.
When we had the chance, we shoulda clapped him in the clamor and thrown
the book away. Away that kin be spoken of. Come for a spin in the turin
machin? That's coit alriot. Ivy forgiven yew. Forgiven even yr good name.
Thirty paces de resistance in one silver-tongued battery. Suspended sentences.
He looked over his shoulder to see the music box set afire by a very projective
patter of young women into which he wanted to insert his twobits before
the vending was over. The morel menangerer, that milkywayed saprophyte,
is diene to release their bonds. Suffocating spiritual babbage. Coupling
chromodynamics and constant static. Wirds like old time on every branch
and peeling. A whopping percentage are having sexual problems. Foreign
hand worth two in bush. Can we have a bit tweet? Starborn and french bred.
You got to be a football hero. Gnawing halfhearted she bit into bone. Alice
doesn't live in wonderland anymore. Guth to look up (a field of ups. Hummer
and satchel) that article under lingere. But the librarians are stacked
agin me. The son is horizon. To the H-Bomb hideaway, where seldom is heard
(quark!) a critical mass for the blasted trinity. Old Muddler Hubble's
mortal sin. Slap him silicon for missing mess. Cross yr bows. And us? We've
got more guts than Great Red Spots. Letus zenopause for refreshmen, ladies
and paramedics. Metaphysics. Off kilter, off danzen, oft blunder and gluons.
Blame it on crooked politics. Would the nox gassed police state yr name?
Harmonies of the world James L. Swanson For whose use is all this equipment
if the globe be empty? Kepler Has all the whirl gone fission? Tank Goddard
yr still alof. When wind of the surprise party broke, I had an inkling
that future generations were a thing of the past. That we'd all fallout
and be counted down. Go critical. Seizons greedings from the late twentiest
century. What isotopic we disgust toonight? How bad vinters drive out good.
Do we still know whose came florist? The adman or the evangelic. Hear the
disk drives zinging? Cloud chamber music. Glab yr hair and strike a comedy
to beheaded by the ax king. The four fundamental farces (and their victrious
humours). Stand up, sit down, be counted, et cetacea. A diealong N times
removed. Concerning two cheap world systems, broken down by gender. Liber
oils and corn servitors. Tantimount to antapodes. There was faults on both
sides. Both lived the same half life. Both imbribed the same riddle. Democracy
in auction. Totalitarianism sub Rosa. Mark, with blood, ever the twain
shall meet. Apollogists for the old Hebrew cannons, fodder. And the new
Missile Xtians. All board, beamed the semiconductor. A doss of strongchum-90
for the milk of yr human kindess, boasted the hostess. A geiger of heavy
water from yellerstoan poke? Think if you but will of the owed man and
the high c note. Think again but deerper (Maryanna's deerper) of the alter
woman. When she ain't kiddin she's calving. Well turned ankles of the bollerina.
Once they almost forgot all about ourselves in their dervilish ttaps dance.
Lipservice to our hoary progenitors. In the shadow the aspens quaked. Pie
the piper. Better livers thru chemistry. He claimed right off the bat to
be culpable of replaying ball with the best of 'em. Eventually he's bailed
out on payroll on a great bottlefield. A regular solid, in the legendary
prime time of a slice of life. Couldn't sitcom stilted. Try to avoid his
infectious attitudes. Couldn't take aim with his lazer eye. Cell block.
Surpressed as an orfin, he was early adapted by a branch of the Potato
Family. If you ever got up on the good side of his bad eye he would give
you a lashing. Had only one ear on the lee of his head. Psychologist's
scars where the other used to be. Gros Ventre pursued him. Couldn't lift
a fingerprint. Bellow Donna. A great teacher and one heck of a grammarion,
allways dielating her pupils. She was a piller of the communiskirt. Millions
of yons of envolution gave rise to bonny parts and her globular clusters.
To see her (intravenus de silo) is to beholden a candle to her. Her green
blouse been in and out of fashion like the armour of the cosmos, peeking
out the bluebushel of architectronic deaconry. Whispering slips of her
racial memorabilia. Her lapse down lovers' lane. Take her as she comes.
Catch as cab can. Her and her doter particles. Polly Ethylene and her 1411
names. Weed neffer seed the likes of him before. Or the legs of her behind.
She passed as a teenager, rainbrowed huer of man. Cubic cleavage. Redshifted.
The first peer blackbody to ensconce her radiant arras, she had natural
logarithm. Ain't a bloomin mote amonk us wouldn't be charmed to take a
brownian hike and bless at the black of the blush. Flesh is hair, too.
Give him a hand. He passed as a hat. Setting on a twoodstool on the verge
of selfabyss, full of fork and half staved. Grin pauper. The acetates upon
you. Be a good squirt, stunk man. Thy clampdown come, thy willies verdum.
Thanks ahem to his presidents of mind he preformed a quarterback's shrink
along the rivers of her thighs. By the shores of legs Louise. Godel it
on the mountains. Ebbing where he should have flowed, neap in his pinstripe
suit of cards. Bobs in the water. Bills in the mail. Feets of clay. As
she was expecting They married the next full shannon harvest moon. Cereal
monotony (the breakfist of champanzies). Hamms a feu barns. For me and
my galleon. A sailsman celled it. Everything but the kitchen snychrotron.
Wetware is transparent to the core. The apple of. It was at Higgs Field-my
old Alamos Madder, to use a poplar nom de guerre-at the crack of doom that
he and she got up and atom. She, his bosonic buddy, beat him, her fermion
friend, at squash. She give him clean breasts of everything bucks could
set aside, next to Arthur's godfreeness. Fast breeder. Mine weirden brooder,
candu spare a doom? Chimps to the right of us, chips on what's left of
us. I remember when I was children. Playing with. Voice and number of yr
fingers thru the wilderness of my hair. Buoys and gulls. The oceans swell.
There is yet another way to explicate the Spring of the Air. Boyle Of arms
control and the man I ching, hymns and hearse from hollows to hump. Flushing
my brainblock of burden images. I keep my ears peeled to the grills around
the crampfire, intent on gullys, tuning out the fun they laugh together.
Out of the sluice gates of heaven as they jocky for affection. Around the
curves. That's why they call him sandy clause, cause I'm a closet saint.
Sassoons my model bride. When all the ashes are transported far beyond
the gallic sea, no longer will it linger that she prefers he to eye. She
is queen of the count down, a spirit of the wood, ice melting. Elude to
her if you but can. You don't have to say. This realization, born on a
mountaintop in Tennessee, was certified structurally sound, although the
architect, with a head for figures, was hard of heraing. An erstwhile invertable
omenizer, wet between, he's the worlds longest indefensible keyborder.
Or you might say, he was before the squat of sprugerons removed his vice
box. Killed em a brute parasite when they was only three. They endowed
what's left of his thalamus with nuptial commotions. Sappers, stand by.
We have an air-breathing missile on screen. Could we have your backscattered
signature on the broken line of your reentry? How many incoming on yr bus?t.
Our intelligence community is on a depressed trajectory. He who phart in
phased array must sit in own Pu. 239. Accordian to the latest releases
of string theory. Strum and dang it all. A hollogram of our drugged dependency.
Torricellian funiculus. Turnip collar garnished with rejection slips of
ffroidian tongue. A curled vermilliondollar bordering on a gaping yawn.
Heralding arms crossed on a feeld of cold. The surface tension on my wet
blanket dampened her enthusiasm. Then she lost my secret decoder ring by
the waters of Babylon. I got to have it to open the atomic toolbox. When
the moon is on the party line. Oao, I snubbed my tao. Running the estuary
equation of an emotional olympic. A glyph on the stairway to that snowstorm
in Hawaii. As fate would have it, I were charged with three cunts of froid
under trapeeze of glance neglegee. How was I to know she'd be so spin sensitive?
Am I just being chirlish? Oh boy. A mirror image of my farmer self. A symbolist
at the behest of the desist. My smokescream a stepping stone into the etiological
orgasm. The cockels of her hemispheric hearth let no man spit assunder.
Dust off the jalosies. Why is a boy more likely to be a hydraulic engineer
than a girl? It's awl in the pia mater. I think, shadows and chantymen,
that it's time to calibrate yr eggs. In the jaws of a christian encrypytion
device. If it wasn't for the acid rain, we wouldn't need silos. At seven
cents on the dollar, one seismology fritters all. Press reset, sultry lass.
You look like a million dots. Enough leg up to win hands down. Just bare
the facts, maam. Remound me when we past Venus. Planets play gutenburg
tag to call our jungfrau's buff. Upstairs, downstairs, a smooch operator
in the chamber of love. Best hornament. Shamanus gobisquik. She'll be driving
six white horses when she comes. The moon was as big and white as a whamo
fribee the night my true love was a sure shot. Leave her alone and she'll
come home. Molly coddled. Polly excluded. Rhythm sections. Zazie dance
la Metro nom. Holly's conic. Brush you wear hairier in the misseds of history.
Raise you three kelvins. Who could ask for anything more? As a court gesture,
redundant as a scholar, I danced with a pen in my pocket and almost wrote
myself out of the puncture. Laid at nite one day, as I was waiting for
a proton to decay. Roll me up into a bawl to conserve body heat. ASCII
and you shall receive the signal. Prezooming you don't slip your DOS in
the corpse of human events. Pee see? Aye, BM. I see BM. After two fructifying
terms on the Atomic Bomb Casualty Commission, I was seconded to the Zouth
Polo on the National Ozone Expedition. You've noticed the bright region
surrounding your shadow on a cloud? Then maybe you've noticed the redskin
surrounding our little fart on the prairie? I loaded seven terminate and
stay resident modules into my RAM noodle and was about to key into a turn
of Willy the Worm when the system locked. Half my winnie's allocation table
was mushed. One of these days, Alice. Hot diggidy dog ziggidy. Boom, what
you do to me. A ringing in the ear. Rin tin tinian. Polly wolly doodle
all the year. Hiro, hero hiroshima. Enol, enola gay. Zipper, zipper de
doodah. On some sunny day. Put that in yr protractor and preplow. O Katy
Huffandpuff, be a fine girl and kiss me right now. Katydid, smack dab,
right on the kisser. Dame Tote, the girl from Ipomoea Convolvulus, the
morning glory, met up with larvae man, soon to be moth man, when his philosophy
develops. Cocoons he cannon, he's a man with emission controls. Overcame
galalayin inertia with his demob money. Sterility guaranteed unless orphaned
before Christmas. Sperm machete. Whale of a sink. L'homme is where the
hard is. Go for wool and come back shorn. Ball change. I found a rosehip
on my saddle. Cutting thru the bush in four fathoms of frost. In fifty
leagues of baseonballs, a hundred joints o'lam. Some magnetic moment, you
may see a diepole, rapelled by my great stoned face. When wood splits on
the hairline crack. When the wildfire rages at the garbage heap. When the
hemispheres split down her midden. In what furnace was thy barn? Chaotic
attractors are noise amplifiers. News flash. Too late for supers. More
remote controls. Too much candy. New wave city. More kids use tape. More
people use locks. People say too many cities. Lightening strikes the decorations.
Lights are flashing more often. People must watch more often. USSA: We
have a hairshop in our mall. USSR: We have a post office. USSA: We have
nine hundred kinds of bulk food. USSR: We have one thousand different kinds
of junk food. Soddenly overheard and solemnly undertaken at the Russo-American
Match Book Company, please take cover before striking. Any crystal baller
knows that when a disck is inserted into a drive, it is mounted by the
ROM routine. Here's looking at you, kid. No light at that end of the toenail.
She turns her lip in mock. Aroused by my advances she may see a strange
quark. Faunt heart never won fair woma. Lose a head of esteem. Bank up
the fire with natural brain serial. Don't arisen until arosen to, Christ
figure of speech. I'll see yr hem and raise you an eyebrow. Ahum. Hail
mary quite contrary, how does your -- does my belliey have a why or an
eye eek? -- how does your bellow bush bloom? With cock on the half shell
(fruit of the womb) and pretty maids all on a roll. What, lost yr knickers?
And never know where to find them. Then harrowed be thy gams. Thus endth
the clocksin and mellish prolog, with one eye triangled behind my back
(alligator in croc minor) and one leg game. The Latin Bestiary of the elfth
century admitted that the formal similarity between the chromatic distribution
curve for thermal radiation and the Maxwell velocity-distribution law was
too striking to remain hidden for long. Meanwhile, in Canada, the beaver,
pursued by a hunter, bit off his own testicles, and cast them before the
sportsman. Thus it escapeth by flight. What is more, if he should again
happen to be chased by a second hunter, he lifts himself up and shows his
members to him. The creature is called Castor the friendly beaver because
of pollux geminiation. It thrives on spunkwater and engine meal shorts,
it is also known as Saint Elmos' fire, presumed to portend the cessation
of a strum and drank. There be some that did castrate themselves for the
kingdom of god, who were released under their own recognizance. The bull
squirrel will bite off the nuts of the young bucks in the nest. Puffalong
passsivity. I know what you're going to say next. Do you now? During the
duration of any garden variety nuclear war likely to occur in our rapidly
shortening lifetimes, nineteen hundred and neuf de nade separate reports
must be continuously and concomitantly filed with the Nuclear Warfare Status
Branch, Joint Chefs of Staph, in accordance with the standard operating
procedure for coordination of atomic operations. Too much hair in your
nose, too much blood in your eye, too much wax in your ear, too much freckle
on your brow. Better see the eye dentist. Hee ha whose loft's lost, leaks
leest. Who put the duals in individuals? Saul done with bellows. Life seemed
so feudal with the pions working in the field. Pass me a slug of spaceman's
beer. She unfolds near him like a flower in the sun. Back to our story.
A new measurement of excess antenna temperature James L. Swanson This excess
temperature is, within the limits of our observations, isotropic, unpolarized,
and free from seasonal variations. Penzias and Wilson O Savannah, pass
the klein bottleneck. Another fraughty night and I'm plastered all over
the gnoospaper. A self tot mild mannered reporting offender. Scale Hadron's
well, tunnel out hot on a Lepton's tail. Big fiche eat little fiche. By
the Canadian river's shore. Empty vessels beside still waters. Lyman lines
in a thaw wind. Blowing down the sonny daughtrace. This particulate deadlined
night, I was juggling the mathematics, trying to renormalize my split infinities.
Suddenly I deduced beyond the axiom of a doubt that aliens are on line.
Waiting in cusps to beam aboard. I'd soupercanoed half as much since pitching
between forks in the upper bunk. They shoot rapids, don't they? Palms sweating,
I linked alpharomeric and graphic modules through a hemispheric decussation.
Cursor flashing, I sniffled both ways across the terminal moraine. Temples
throbbing, I typecast the broadest semantic net for any character to continue.
Hairs splitting, I reset the parity bit. Somewhere, over the event horizon,
lies one collapsed wait state after another. In the morass. What god has
jointed, let noman double up in pleasure. Singling yankee doodle dangle.
Pick it in your pocket, assuming shrouds have no pockets. One former daily
planet condenses into a spoonful of quark soup. Glowball village. Snake
eyes. Read error. Charmed? Mum's the word. I yam what I yam. When I got
stubbed groping for switches in the dark, I built a home-control cisterm
with voice ejaculation. Dismisting the weather farcasts, I repopulated
my own motherboard. When the price of a barrel skyshuttled over the falls,
I threw together a servochip wood potbelly. When I got bored waiting for
interpretors to crunch programs, I hardened an artery, and I did it with
Chlorophyll. Smack my lips. When memory overrant available headspace, I
used large scale integration to cross the gallic seas. Ip ip array. When
it stuck in my mundi to herk Hermina's gringold, to be happy for the rest
of my life, if it took all nougat and half the date, she never shed a peeling.
Over the periodic tabletop. As belfast as our blight-legs will carry. Sure,
this hypothesis links a daisy chain of scenarios to an angle that might
never be incident, but everything, reflectively, is satisfactual, relativistically.
Starve a launch, feed a super, as Edward Henry KissingTeller the Eighth
used to say, before the dielectrix of arms control blew a short circuit
in his bugged underpants. Take his electromagnetic pulse. There be no christians
in command bunkers. Grab the joycestick. Whom shall we have for breakfast?
Fried spangled bannock. Wind egg souffle. A chew of fat during the twilight's
last gesundheit. Incomplete past to our endzone. Wine debate, lose derection.
Good defenses make good denatures. Si si, see three eye. Synthesize fits
all. Battling with the imaginal disk of my farmer self, a daring young
man, I howled with frozen fist, wrenched to my root, river running into
dust. Boy sprout pining for girl guide. Fuse to fuss with the vox populate.
All the tall trees dancing. The power of one budding in the wasteland.
Twenty-one years on the Rocky Mountain line and I get vowel disease of
the descending semicolon. Caledonia why is your big heart so hard? Which
is when you come in. When there's sunshine in the sewer. When the dust
storms never blow. When dead men rise no smiles. Aliens on line. With a
threat of scrambling. Circle around the voice in the bluzzard. Can I put
you on hold? A possible solution to the flatness problem James L. Swanson
However, I am also sure that many physicists agree with me that the flatness
of the universe is a peculiar situation which at some point will admit
a physical explanation. Guth Sentences so far delivered include massive
amounts of debugging code. So finds Judge Learned Hand of the opulate quarter,
of that most moist hemisphere. Native mode is no excuse when the autumn
bomb's kabloom. Catch little white girl. The eggmann. He's fit to be gill
tide as charged, slurd as he is in his blue swayed shoes. King Cong versus
Humpty Doodle. A professor of the anti-inflationary universe, residing
at Two Searocket Lane. Them's the vax, so kelp me cod. Memory is cheap
for mouse bound software. Someone's in the kitchen. She's a cover girl
for all the cosmos. A sand dollar in her empty pocket, with a fancy pheromone
based speech system, slingoing seawards, wending. When her yons in vogue
I turn to a shadow. Boost phase interrupt. Me tarsand, you Jane. It's simples
sigh man, the layrd of his mannor, prepossessive in habititude, formerly
chief dental mechanic for Sister Dee's colletage of barbers and surgeons.
In a fine figurehead of speech. Until Tass reutered him. Served a dollop
of dittany in his monkshood and creaturly habits. Too bald for him when
he lost his absolute pitch in the bonedry waters. He stood to make a prophet
if worts came home to roots. Having a lubbery time on land. Nexus, the
see. No swimming aloud in your second skin. Ever since he was promoted
to a quantum mechanic, he's made thinly failed illusions to the medulla
oblongata. Drivel talk. Snakes and lassies. Fleet of foot in her argoile
gumboats, she escapes through the change house. Since he's become a cook
she hardly ever eats any more. And whenever she picks up on whatever's
coming down, he's sure to fufufumble a couple couplecouple times. Far viande
the vent herizon. Dbbl dribbled. Critical phrase transition. As pretty
a set of jugglers as ever a pitcher poured. Dbl boiled. Sparks flew as
she slipped off her pants. Lapping waves foam at her mouth. Suckle me choppers
at the spawnish bunkers. Frame grabber. She was made in the stars. He goes
down to the sea as smolt. A mutant bulge in his genes. Egg static. Milt
leading the spined. One fished in irons, the other in a creel. If the right
whale don't a krill ya, the baleen will. Clasp when clapped at. His heart
rattles in its cage. Control yourself. Won't catch me in a hatchery, fisher
of kings. Crab, pinch me to sea. If I'm a wake. Or if les harticots sont
pas sales. Accidents will happen in the best regurgitated families. Come
winter, it'll be ice jam and sonora tea from the Trans Sisters, BMEWS'd
as they are with dead reckoning. Waiter, there's an atomic demolition munition
in my soup. You'll be interested to know that the Italian navigator has
just landed in the new world. Were the natives friendly? Yoo bet yo bottom
dollar. Everyone landed safe and happy. Had history unfolded differently
we might have remained neutral, but how ionic that we still felt a vanderwalls
attraction. Hawking radiation from her black hole. Apple pion the scion.
Renormalize. Promiscuous burning at all elevations. Pour me some swamp
cooler in my depression glass, I've just failed my smog check. Soviet nam.
Thimble riggers. Barney Google, with the googoogoogly eyes. Had a wife
three times his size. Annie Oakley was her name. Ask her again, she'll
tell you the same. Waiter, may we have some cratons for this supercanoe?
This is a test. If this had been a real emergency, the tone would have
been followed by official information. Ou sont les neiges downtown? Jiminy
cricket. Killed in a bar when he was only three. Reducted my wate state
to two stone and one. Without sins. Jesust a throw. Attaches to any doorknob.
Bridge to nosecone! Thar she blows. Die frauder, de sham, indus Holy Glasnost.
Standing in doorways, stunned. The nubliest oblige. Oblate. This has been
a test. Of the dictionary of phase and fraible. Jug jug juggling. We're
cooped up in the bughouse with ladybugs and daddy longlegs. This bar is
a dive, he says. I should know, I come here all-duck, cosmic rays-all the
time. Seeing you eat that chocolat bar, she says-boys will be boys-reminds
me of something. I've got this big ashtray with teeth all around the edge.
Look at that guy, he says. I hope he doesn't come in here. Don't look at
him, she says. What a hat. Five chasms James L. Swanson Since the early
sixties, the number of strange resonances has proliferated. Pais All I
want for Christmas is thrysisters for my my tube. Moxi Bustion, Milly Subluxion,
and Fanny Brite. When the chips are down. Same time, same channel. Pray
to the Gipsy Rose, clickety schick, the well-rounded earth mother who played
flat out at her Korg Keyboard, down at the Vulgus videoarcade. A strange
attractor in the bit stream, underneath the cafeteria. We've met before.
I'm the child of the atom bomb, a kissing cousin of sputnik twice removed,
hummer and satchel. We still remember our first tv. We remember watching
the couple calypso, peeping tomboys like Santa, hammer of twitches. Jugg
band music in the attic, jug jug juggler, the juggler in vain. The Mooty
in maw. One moment please, we're experiencing faulty reception. Seated
by my side. Silver bells and rusty mufflers. The cattle are lowing, the
baby awakes. Face the moon. Make the bate, the gens inconnu. Round John
Virgin and his tempest in a teapot, the Green Mountaineers. Jimmie crack
corn and I don't care, Maxwell's mogen demon has got one up on Kelper's
toothy fairy, the dirty diddle dwevill. A veritable king of the road, we
were well pleased with the cut of his coat of many coloreds. He forgot
usetoday's newspappers at great crosst to us all. The superstar of the
Bethlehem Steelers was iron to the core. Wass tass mell? Eau de ewe. Pas
mall. Paw maw. Pell mell. Call for Philip Morrison. He's wanted on the
chesterfield. "Nice cookies," he said as he passed with a hat. Aqua vit.
Drama and drampa don't wanna knose. But when man does nose woman, we all
can be accessories after the fat. Purse you, belt we, and smell me Rhonda.
"I like your shoes." Whereupon it was recumbent upon her to pass the cucubits
and succubust. Spread the jams and say a mass transit of superstarlets.
May you fall into the chasm of the Cathode Ray whenever you're up that
way. Particulates in Canada. High overheard, lickety split, launch the
missile into her widow of invulnerability. Stuffing the ballotrina's box,
doing what comes naturally. Whether yr a standin or a sit in, doing yr
business in someone's biffy, scanning the contents of her medicine chest,
do not exhibit pour spurtsmanshit. Do not pass go in the pantry and rifle
her drawers. It will fly in the face of the facts, ma'am, if you're pulling
your own weight. For chrissmisst my twseetie gave me a come-along. Chown
doen. I stripped the gear box making frozen firewood. The vandals took
the handle. Friar Tuck'll find them. Feelem. Then he'll forgetem. Like
a butcher's dog. Where's the beef? At top dead centre. Stand up and be
accountants. I'd like to apply for that position in reproductive biology.
Fill out yr forms. Eidedic cate. This nest song to all you mothers out
there on ground zero. Noynt your face overnight with Lac virginis. Betty's
on the meat ball. She's always had the look of the eyeish. Perjaps she
worm her firm kirt and fuzzy chaps to go out for a roll in the bakery.
At the Masters' tournament of Johnson's wax where Humpetey Cumbetty wailed
at a bale. All the king's whorses and all the kink's men couldn't pub hummey
agasser agrin. Bowling is rite up my allie, said Sallie. Oop, said Paul.
Bowling ball. She sports a succulent pair of knockers. He's got a hankering
to drop in on her, she in her knickers as she is, and he in his notch.
Be my almagest, she said, my aide memoire. My angel puss. Heaven knows.
How I'd love to burst in upon you right where yr expecting, left to yr
own devices, to see how yr feeling, with hands across the waters. He was
forthwith promoted to a fifth order of the border garter by an extinguished
night of the roam. He looked so florid in his toot suite, rudy to the tooth,
a new fangled wolfman of the old school chum. Fairboaten zoo sprachen?
Shame on you, shaman, for breathing up all the laughing gas once upon,
upon some verses of Virgil. Well, the sky has the mountains on its side.
Cleavage compelled cessation. When the saltan of the earth raisins his
swollen head and reigns over pearls before supper, then mean Mr. Mustard
will inherit the broken wind. Next comes the the plasticine age. Arrows
over the rainbow. Incomplete combustion. Musical movement made in Japan.
Twat does a gisher girl wear under her kinono? Doubled over in pleasure,
dreams really do come true. Pardon my interrupts, see-pee-you, but I don't
want to lose my type ahead. Normally of course the blitter and the sixtyeighthundred
take tickles of eightyeights each. When the blitter hogs the cycles in
native mode, who will service Miss Keyboard Interrupts? Bone mots. Did
he say that his hat was in style? No, he said that it was found in the
sty, so put that in your eye. Was he willing to comment on the pros and
cons of frozen prawns? Liketh the man on death row who was afraid of sparks,
he was all clammed up and nowhere to glow. Remember when the memory register
was last cleared of bits? Hardware had a sale on entropy. Get it while
it's hot. According to the second lay, the layman's guide to lay women.
It's a thermodynamically irreversible operation. We pay to have newspapers
delivered, not taken away. Plant a man, boom town salmon. Mumbo jumbo,
mon, by the light of the morning star. The mount of Venus. The fizziology
of orgasm. Writ larege by a gnome de flume. Fireball. Man as we know him.
Women as well as you know her. The girl from ipomea convulva haunts my
dreams. They can't take that away from me. I'm hair, wooden life! Us many,
o world! Best boy, state self. Legs between. Quark bush. Whose eyes shall
branch? O father modules, ain't les sentences owed swell? Corn found yam.
Happy messenger crossed ice horizon. Friend rises dancing, bellowing to
a different zipper. Women flew thru peeling. Large distributed systems
are unstable. Wide swings of behavior. Busker Brown passed down the center
of a corset. There's a quark down! Code Five. Call the Chromodynamics!
That royal tap on the shoulder during the dance between the sheets. Dripping
tap, tap a sapper. I've got a headache twoud split an atom. I suffered
rejection at every hand because they said my type couldn't be justified.
Scan you now these polar bodies? I know you're there because the string
is slack. When one of the balls tries to escape, the string gets tight.
Renormalize your mass and charge the phenomena to the parameters. At Her
Highness's behest, The Royal Family was bestowed with a wave function.
On the horizon the fish were on their last legs, burping bigger bubbles
than when we used to be kids. When we leaft awl the choir girls up the
sprout. What'll it be, sky blue water? May we have the envelope please?
Philip my glass with seersawn music. For four days we loved on bred and
vasser and on the fifth a doxen people freefell down mine canary. Fiat
lox. Let there be a Yang-Mills theory with all its gauge bosons, sordid
like the man with the golden arm putting the rub on the woman with the
steel toe. Back in the United Straights, so swob and devonaire. Ironically
railroad construction was the reason for ships. General Electric passes
the order on to the Kentucky Colonel. May you rock well, my boeing little
one. May your informations be hard of chewing. Quoths the raison, livermore.
Like a byte? In a form appropriate for the supercomputer. The primordial
fireball, if it exists, provides us with tangible evidence that the universe
did pass through a hot, highly contracted phase. Spontaneous evacuation.
Protecting the population. Attack related budget. All levels of government.
Space-based defense. Incoming barrage. Random arrival. War in the skies.
Woe to him who makes companions drink the outpouring of his venom, intoxicating
them so that he may gaze upon their dancing girls. Full chasm five my fiddler
lies. My foddler who art in carnate, pinky be his leaf. Those are parlez
that view his eyes. Shiver me timbers in me mother's tongue. There was
no return address on the envelope of her voice. And ball the jack on the
railroad track. The railroad means escape. A weeping maiden seen at a ford,
washing bloody garments, means one is about to die. -- over half of all
chapters (5 to go) ==== Nichomachean ethics James L. Swanson The tickler
is not tickled. Aristotle e come. i come. o come. You come now that Matta,
now that Matta Hairy is in full groan. Come now, o superman, come down
Lois Lane. She's loved by the half bad. Knock the living clay. He's half
feared by the good, for the good, of the good. On the national grid in
vain. Some compared them to Maid Marrying and the Sheriff of Nothingham,
in the county of Wheresthebeef, in the burrow of Groundhog. But none of
them was old enough to support a beard at spawning time when the salmonella
voices bloom. Put some English on the bawl. Yes, mine furor. In the felt
branches and the garment district, the whisper was, if pants wrinkle in
the crotch like a smile, cut the curve. If pants wrinkle like a frown,
raze the debtors' prison. Oder in the cortex, the judge is going bline.
Suffered a severe deficiency of ozone before he could so much as lift a
fingerprint. Giving the bum rush to the macrame rearum. You won't miss
the wasser on Palm Sunday this Easter, man. Once upon the time there was
a fish on teevee. Man says, look at that fishy, sishty pounds. Pan to woman
turning over her shoulder. Back at the newsroom, the anchorman chattered.
She blussed like the religious woman who had two men a nite. She turned
out to be nothing but skin and barns. Titus and Assam. As for him, he was
cot in the backscatter of the information explosion. His history's in a
nuts'hell. He's hid behind his villan's moustache since before vaudeville,
but venisoon, by gum, by walpurgis knockt at the last, like a mighty hunter
on a snowmobile, pursuing his pray to the point of conversion, he'll be
blost in the bewilderness. I guess I should know. I know about as much
about atoms as onions. After all, and after all is said and done, and after
all is said and done and gone, atom is all I is. Atoms and eves. Over the
river and in the sky, flying blue angels, in a fragrant meadow, now I lay
me, down. We enjoyed your ruins. Whom were they collected by? Guideon's?
Then roll me a smoke. And with the girls be handy. We saw in the paper
the other day that drugs are making it impossible to tell the fucking maniacs
from the northern population, except by their slang and cockeyedness. Celibates
inevitably develop a prostrate condition when confronted by a real looker
in the darkroom. For my last testicle, I will all my intoxicants to Shape
Spear, when I succumb to the succubus. The facility will be the hub of
a nationwide computer network, called the National Test Bed. Its mission?
Simulating the response of a SDI C3I system to a nuclear attack. Custom
chromosomes courtesy of the Defense Nuclear Agency. Syntax error. Bus phase
error. Core dump failure. The bigger the hands, the slower the clap. Snicker
at my personality defects, will you? The cut me a piece of yellowcake and
we'll all count down. Imagine, if you will, Einstein and me -- call him
Al -- sitting on a lifeboat on the beach, waiting for the quantum mechanics
to renormalize the wave function so as we can take her for a spin. Wait
till the Americas' cusp, we'll whip the pants off those young whispersnappers.
Such is the lore of the high and mighty, since the daze of your, when they
ruled the kingdom like as if they were frying a small fish. By keeping
their billies foal and mine empty. By focusing on that first infinitesimal,
they were able to get a shave and a haircut, two bits. Then came the days
when they could get three boxes of twentytwo shorts for six bits. Enough
to last a country boy a season, until spring when a farmer's fanncy turns
to welding. If the barrel's crooked you'll need more shorts. Time will
tell, mark my words and remember this after you're dead and gone, that
consciousness is an illussion, and that you and you and you, Ulysses S.
Useless, and all your coho, have served your purpose. Why should a critter
that begs to differ get new genes? Someone's in the kitchen with DNA on
the new frontier. Memoryclips the peaks and troffs. Trons. For the life
of me, I can't remember the, the last time. Blank user level. Type clear.
When I hear that train a-rolling, I get a hunkering to chow down and rent
me a workstation. Produce some hard copy. Play a little eyeball on the
visual field. The farmer takes a wife. Plowing with his hefner. Buddy,
how're you fixed for blades? Punk ice surrounds the crematorium. Rubbings
in graveyards. Clavicords papaya. One winday, when naut was calm, I herd
the breezeway whisker my name. When they begin the begeanning, the big
bhang. Meanwhile, back at the pituitary, the standard model was being popped
on the clutch. Too much slack in the playblack. Elementary, my charmed
quark. When we boot the gears to local reality, gravel may tunnel through
a waterproof gumboot. Strumming on the old bankroll and singing fee fie
fofumbli-eye-o. Aboard Yacht Cathy, crossed wires in waterbeds shocked
mouths meeting. My lips are sealed your Highness. A naked man is surfing
on the back of my shirt. His prick is hanging out. The boy across the river
always stares at it. Bone up on your skills before you get scalped by his
scalpel. The future, my son, is in operating systems. Why just last week
a bibliography of neural network references appeared on disk. It's been
in the news all over the country. Everybody says the meat doesn't have
the taste it used to. Us right atomic, dead lost nuclear, behind moon big
ear do happen, hard control says. Egg hundred and god apple sleeps working
behind hidden nose. Corn found yam. Happy messenger crossed ice horizon.
Fear friend. Rise dancing naturally. Bellow to a different zipper. Women
flew through peeling. Cannon baller blows coordination. Lois Lane said
of a person with a weak bladder, he's got the jimmy riddles. Out piling
ties near the ditch by the road, out among the jimpson where the boys ain't
mowed. Geological writing in a lapidary style is just an extravagent fad,
but if it tickles the os humerous, or as the prelats would quip, me funnybone,
then let the nights tripper go off the deep end. Like the the aitch man,
he casts his parls before swingernon. Engaging in the complicated behavioral
and physiological processes needed to bring together gametes from distinct
individuals, and possess the elaborate genetic machinery involved in producing
recombination between the maternal and paternal genomes during the production
of these gametes, the biologists wondered if it wouldn't be simpler to
engage in some harmless mode of vegetation. The astronomers replied, I
feel, i feel, i feel, just like the morning star. You and whose army? Me,
IG Farben, and Zyklon B. At the democratic convention in Alantis, police
blew up a bag of apple juice. The facts of the drought eventually soaked
into the head of the secretary of agriculture, who was was in the next
room plowing with his heifer. The moat jus, say the mute ants, pour l'amour.
On the good ship-make that, on the other side of Mars-where the women smoke
cigars. Last cow for breakfast. We get the travel grant for medical help,
and all we see is cops on the highway, stopping guys like myself who're
speeding. Why ain't they downtown cleaning up the Indians? We're afraid
of terroritsts in the common market. Did this occur just before Mount Everest,
where they have the faces? It's too balmy for atomic balling when the caissions
go rolling. When worts came home to roast. The Day the Dennis died, preluding
the Jacokbennian revolution. Shin tangle and stumble weed notwithstanding,
I simply must have your source code. Life is a fractal in hilbert space,
doing the darwinian two step, an infinite series of strange attractors
yawing towards chaos. Sixty nine factorial is just under a googel. Thank
god the kids were in bible school the morning I shot the dog. The BMD system
suffered a catastrophic failure. She died blowing up a balloon. She busted
her brains and died instantly. I was down drawing water that evening, solving
the mystery of the universe. From the point of view of foreign objects,
we definately have to recommend against going barefoot. Battle him of the
republican, to lay rubber by hymens lamp through the porthole of our berth.
The transit of Venus through the stable of Vulcan. Any port in a storm.
The vortex of her triangle. Out of the night when the full moon is brite.
Here was a starlet, a femme fatal, who could project two points of her
personality. The streetwalkers of heaven are paid with gold. Just about
now Doctor John von Faustio, the think-tank voyager, is climbing aboard
his ark de triumf, which if it comes on line is capable of producing forty
billion elementary particles per year and can easily provide enough missing
mass to close the universe. Forty years ago he met his wife at the roller
rink in downtown Banana, Canada. He's made an airtight case for the existence
of humidity. Now someone's lost alone, out among the great congreves of
color, between the palpable shifts of seen and acts of congress, in the
great hole out of which w ------ De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet James
L. Swanson ...as people with chronic diseases when they have despaired
of ordinary remedies and customary regimens turn to expiations and amulets
and dreams, just so in obscure and perplexing speculations, when the ordinary
and reputable accounts are not persuasive, it is necessary to try those
that are more out of the way... Plutarch These are sullen worts to bane
our hunger, and how can we but think of Sulla -- I wield my fells to lope
de varga -- without recalling the tower of wood which he could not set
afire, because Archelaus, governor of the town for King Mithridates, had
it plastered all over with alum, as is related in the Attic Nights and
Cellar Days, doctated by Freddy Barbarossa as he slept beneath a hill?
If he ain't awoke yet, he sleeps there still, still as baby Jesus in the
goddess's cocoon, he sleeps like cutty kaiser, ninesheets to the moon,
and dreams of a maiden all forlorn, who was humped by the bull with the
crumpled horn. When you find yourself in times of trouble, Mother Fin will
waken you. Come again? We speak of the perishable priest who spoke in parabolas,
the frightful hair to his brother's wheelchair of fortune, who saw everything
in shirley temple black and vanna vanna white, known as the wiled man of
the pomposities, alias Mr. Mississippi, a bit port player at the hot dog
theater. He squandered his birthrate on a messy cottage and a heap of splif
peas. He creased his samovar with a scimitar and tossed a credit card salad.
O my, o my ozone's got a hole in it. Buzzard on line. May I cut in, said
the painter to the wall, with her foot in his mouth. I recognize yr user
interface. I'll seer yr bacon, and raise you a stink and a hay. A bona
dea keeps the anchor awake. Yes we have no null modems. I'd like you to
meet my niche. Suckle me choppers at Pa's moll and pick a peck of pox malt,
apocryphal of rye. Ask me no algebra and I tell you no lie. No stone'll
be unturned, nor thrown out at first. Singasing of Sack's pence, fractal
Jack in the pluton green, and yet those cratons keep rolling along. All
smiles, she is a B.C. honey. Her midden name is Sioux Ste. Marie. She had
Alberta plates and Saskatchewan saucers. She released her latest record
last week. On her own label. I saw her with my icon lens. I saw her Québec
cups on smutty's flat as a puncake hearse, where all women of irresistable
attraction end up flipping aphrodite's griddle-engineered at great cost
by Cestus B. Deflowern. Palm him off as a lip reader. A stood up karmic.
When the testicle comes to a head. In his cock boots and cunt cap. What
is meant when we say, that a man farts frankincense? Die kunst der loot.
And that's the hole's barn of wax. How do you make a whormone? Dopamine
a monocock, a leaned on, Princess Die Cot. Here on the piece river. I see
by yr ID that yr a general systems manager for a large multinational boilermaker,
able to leapfrogs in a toller bond, but what I wanna know is, are you a
strate arrow? When she said, "Wooden yew like to no," I could see my file
structure branching, taking the inner passage thru the sans of time-life.
Our hostess tonite is Clara Both Loose, wife of prefect sergeant St. Jean
Fillup Booth, and a helluva nice girl besides. She'll be talking down to
us from her upstarts apportment. Now it's over to you Clara. Thank you,
John. Our question tonite is, what are the three ways to speed the transfer
of information? Telephone -- pan to a peek at Johnny -- telegraph -- pine
to a pole --and telewoman -- pun to a poke. And now, back to Johnny O'Bacon,
caught as he is between a quantum and the cosmos. In the news tonite, Canute
Kanockanee rebuffed his flatterers in the Perishing Gulf by commanding
the waves to stand still, and even the wacs couldn't budge. Too stuffed
to be farcie. Music by Les Six and his pointerpacked paulbearers. Great
guns. And now a word from our sponsor, Fearless Fosdick's bug shepherd
service. Keep your bowels open. Keep your ears to the bible. Expect acid
snow in Chapellizod. This I heard the stranger relate. You and you friends
may make of it what you will. ------- Upon some verses of Virgil James
L. Swanson A mesure que les pensements utiles sont plus pleins et solides,
ils sont aussi plus empêchants et plus onéreux. Montaigne
Who pass baton running relay board relationship? Who fell mean bow meaninful?
Who saw soul a man observer in collapse a quantum state? Who seize soul
of woman creator in spression of wave function of universe? He who can
avoid the falling soda-pop machines while remaining strictly pastoral.
He who has more words for automobiles than the Eskimo has words for snow,
and she who leaves milk and cookies for Santa Clause but shaves her cherry
for Jesus. When he was accused of blowing his own horn, he retorted, the
more you toot. He backed up the argument by reference to a first-person
article, called "Caught between the hyopthalmus and the pituitary," which
appeared in the last-year's drought edition of The frigid couple's guide
to oragami. See also the appendix with the straight dope on the atomic
icebreakers and their cast of supporting frigates featured in the colored
centerfold. The volume was imprinted entire on gloss on trees which grew
to their full hite and cut themselves down, falling smack dab right into
the campfire. Flash. Disorder claims Onassis. Go to the end of the line
and renormalize yr split infinities. It all boils down to a beep of splif
peas, or as Sem shed, some sort of a rheubarbarous applejack. Let us pry
and case the joint. Bow. Never turn yr back on the bilelogical clock, even
in the springtime at the big band of the era. But do yr hard time full
screed ahead, as the maison said to his dixie rosarie. Let's go for a tumble
in the what the hay, let's head for a treble in the shade. I've got two
clef foot, so I'm heading for the why, a box lunch will suet me fine on
my birthday. Hoodoodit? Full sneed ahead, said Sam I am that I am, and
that's all that I am. I live in a garbage can. I put to sea now in Sindbad's
scow, roc of agis, way down upon the sewanee river, a steven fosterchld,
baptized by the Edgar Allen Pope. As revealed by the Woman of Fusion from
Satellite City. Devour her with yr ize. Yr randomize. Yr compromise. She
was engrossed to find a giant cockroach in her honeymoon pajamas. The cat's
meow. I gave my love a chicken that had no bone. It was a chicken McNugget.
My dog has fleece. Rolfing. She's a sheep dog. Thumbs up to the vicarious
glitchhiker, Knancy Gnite. The part contains the hole, as the hole contains
the part. Yet parting is such seweet sorroro. Hair today, gown tomorrow,
said the monkey to the fly. The silkworm spun for to see such fun, and
o what a Gee Bee am I. O be an ef gee and kay me R.N. The eunix system
is very applicable to the overall picture. Dollars. Bingo. The shroud of
touring machine. Modern man in search of his shelf-life while something
warm runs down his leg. "Maybe it's just my wounded knee." Suffering from
its trinity of bites. The sight of a newborn yawning goes to the viceral
centre of the brain and is transferred, by a commodius vicus of regurgitation,
to the bored room. This baby's got factory air, four on the floor, insex,
formicating with their aunts. Who wrote the feeld guide to the opposable
sex? The saltons of the earth, when they became peppered with swats, after
the foment of the mother liquor. This is a serious infraction of public
whatever. This is smokestack calhoon. This it the trophy for the oldtime
hose lay. We won this one for hose coupling. But the budget was leaked
by an educated guest, whose informed consent yielded hardons on the rise.
Let's go out to the park and play the timber videogame. Chop down all the
trees before your two bits run out. Don't worry, nobody has seen god. But
I met him on the train and haven't stopped laughing since. On the road
to Bunberry Cross, I met a wombat with a comb, locked in mortal combat
for her womb. The victor will take a seat in congress if he can do a lap
against the cardinal wind. (The bishop farts at the table). The quashed
will be deported to Edmonton and be immortalized forever, or at least until
the end of their livers. They'll be famous in the tourist snapshots, like
the human grafitti blazed on the walls of Hiroshima. Virgin springs are
bubbling on the mountainside. Gravity makes them do that. We have no idea
of what gravity is, but it always seems to work. It makes everything come
down. See those trees? No matter how steep a slope they grow on, they grow
straight up. Gravity makes them do that. Nobody knows what it is, but it's
never failed yet. Hey, I think I got on the wrong bus. Is this the bus
to Riverside? I'll tell you if you tell me what size bra the queen wears.
Cigarettes? Chewing gum? Ammonia capsules? Put your seatback in the upright
position. Thomas Edison invented the electric chair. Writers may be fond
of their characters but they're not going to get into them tonight, because
the poet lost her page and had to scrabble for words. Home is where the
hard disk is. Eyeless in Gazebo. Samson slogging his daily way to the cosmic
ray station. Did you know the female tic is blind and legless when she
mates? There's a poem in that, and if you like I'll xerox you a copy and
you can get a real poet to write it. That's what the actress said to the
Bishop. Her great legs served as a symbol to an emerging populace. Come
let us trip a few cool ones, we'll bend our elbows, doors ajambo, jambs
akimbo. One last question. Les demoiselles d'avenir, barlez vous? --- The
expression of emotion in man and animals James L. Swanson I have been informed
by a young lady, who blushed excessively, that at such times she does not
even know what she is saying. Darwin Don't rub another mam's rhubarb less
you trying to get erected to the hall of flame, or perhaps appear in the
boordrooms of our nation and in the boredoms of education. From the breedrooms
of jejaculation a fierce yawn penetrated to the wall street journal, and
so began the frantic search for a fruitless poet and a one man-woman band.
Blame it on the vulgar man who scratches his head when perplexed, whose
eyes are like boiled codfish when prostrated by confusion, and who suffered
extreme incontinence in Tierra del Fuego when he couldn't get a good two-bit
shine. A saltcellar sailor whose barque was worseoff than his byte, he
enjoyed a close casual relationship to a family of primates. Coming of
age, as he was bound to eventually, he married Miss Knancy Night, the discoverer
of the identical snowflakes, what a beautiful pussy she was, she was, although
they-the snowflakes, that is- were different from any others. Their children
were among the survivors at Bhopal. They had been better off to be fatalities
and be compensated with a color tv set and a fully reclining naugahyde
loveseat; survivors were only able to trade their native art collections
in on videocasette players. I'd blow my alma matterhorn on the whole darn
shootingmatch, but my lips been hermetrically sealed since that spell of
loose vowels in the library, when some single mother was swiping toilet
paper to make ends meet. She was scent up for being nine months overdue.
She faced 88 constellations of charges pertaining to the bulges of credit
in her hip pockets. Speaking of which, I've got some new keys in my pocket
tonite. Did you whom are still alive hear about the trapeze artist who
graduated into a human cannonball? Her selected writings swelled in the
rain and burst her perfect bindings. Is love a memory when no one knows
where death goes? Apply some atomic balm to the grey nagging matter. And
finally face up to the so-so biology of spring. We've got a life and death
situation in the bedrooms of our nation. After yr autopsy who knows but
if you'll be found with a tuner in yr brain? And all yr wonderful predictions
may be thrown off kilter, even yr brilliant discovery that Humpty Dumpty
didn't fall-he was pushed. I think he was pushed, therefore I saw it on
tv. The hands of a kerosene cowboy were keyboarding it across a continent.
There was an internationally redeemable coupon, payable upon delivery of
the very shell of the man. General Dynamics passed the order to the Kentucky
Colonel. Spooks when spoken to. May you rock well, my boeing little one.
Even Steven was found to be the odd man out, with his thirteen authenticated
arms and enough joints for fifty fingers. He could prove, by the bare process
of elimination, that it's best to put your privy on the path past the woodpile
when jacking over the jilted throne. I guess we won't be getting into that.
Her pommes won't be released till fall. The railway hiring policy recommends
hiring a man who farts, for he eats his lunch fast. And to all you alls,
south of the 49, remember to keep a body bag in your glove box. Cause up
here the astronomers can't decide whether to shoot the stars from the old
dump site, or to gaze skyward from the new suburban graveyard. When the
saints came marching in, the drummer's head was as round as the harvest
moon, but the shadow he cast on the national black-and-vue velvet was as
rough as the old stone face, as was captured by Ansel and Gretschl in the
pawpawpawumpkin patch. Behind the pompadoor, sabian cymbals were sounding
the woks of life. Dance by the light of the moon. --------- The descent
of the oracles James L. Swanson Dust jacket. A dead letter. Moto goes modern.
Soviet sailor is not go to sea to see the world, but go to sea to bury
the vcr. Nuclear Fuel. The chief of the port spoke against permitting the
ship to enter his harbor, declaring, "We still do not have radiation-monitoring
equipment, decontaminating solutions, or special protective paste." A key
suspect in the boron carbide exposé passed the tip to Nucleonics
Week, his sister publication. The SIOP and I. Policy underwritten by Mutual
of Omaha. Unfortunately, not every target could be assigned an atomic bomb,
since the US has only about 22,500 nuclear warheads. There are now about
fifty thousand designated targets in the Middle East. The revised King
Ronald version of the U.S. central nuclear war plan was continuously fine-tuned
by the Joint Target Staff at Strategic Air Command hq. Cast a feather against
the wind. Cast one's lot with the cast of an eye, or glance at the cast
of the die, or cast off your nautical, reptilian clothing to cast your
spell, with a cast of thousands of earthsworm, cast in bronze after a plaster
cast (flyrod's shadow), a horoscope of fortunes, as "a widow will cast
her weeds on an overcast day, when the outcast comes home to feather his
nest." Casthouse. The humane society raids the building in which pigs or
ungulates are castrated, and where Castor Wineburger, also called corposant,
and Pollux Gnuman, also called St. Elmo's fire, where on the appearance
of two at once they were thought to portend the cessation of a storm. He
had seen Castor at the main yardarm. Rab 5.17.77. They no knot of what
they speak. Dumbwaiters, dumbterminals, dumbbells, o my. The pilgrim's
progress ends in the gutter. He pleaded guilty as sin to being two bits
shy of a full deck, and blessed with a brain predisposed to short circuit
at any The first pile. A remake of the classic 1955 Atomic Energy Commission
Report, sanitized and prelubricated. The Italian navigator has landed in
the New World. The natives were very friendly, since they were not yet
nuclear capable. Noel Coward and Stephen Hero star in a Burt Bacharach-Neil
Simon production of: How are your bowels working, private? I haven't been
issued with any, sir. I mean are you constipated? No sir, I volunteered.
Heavens, man, don't you know the King's English? No sir, please express
my deepest sympathies. When I was a baby my grandma done told me, don't
eat watermelon seeds if you don't want a watermelon to grow in your belly,
or say pp, as in m i double s, i double s, i double p, i. Humpback wail
of the horny toed. Be yr own wilt walkman. Jumping Jimminy, capitalist
pawn, kissed the girls and made them yawn. Jimminy Cricket ate at the Y,
humpted the girls and made them fly. East meats west. Eating the picnic
hamburger with chopsticks. Hey Sony don't make fun of my chokes, okay?
Sleep of the tongue. Have you ever tried to remember someone's name, only
to discover that there is no such person? Or to remember a word, only to
find that there is no word. And you would have to invent a word, the way
we would have to if we wanted fifty words for snow, so say the Iniut, or
the way the Inuit would have to, if they wanted ten thousand names for
wheelchairs. Some of the names would translate directly, like the twist,
the mashed potato or the chicken grill. Others would need new words, like
the rumba and the hully gully. Remember the Alamo, the Maine, that certain
September. Archie Buner-Hill couldn't remember the Crawdaddy Song when
asked by his computer. Star Catalogues. When I was a groin boy and mounting
my first show I only slept six hours all week. The catalog included over
a million positions, incorporating the Second Cape Catalog, the Catalog
of the Components of Doubles and Multiples, and the General Catalog of
Trigonometric Parallaxes. Venus in superior conjunction with Mars, Uranus
ascending. Fun of embarrassment. I got my disk, I got my data, nothing
smells as bad as a false nose, nothing looks as bad as a glass eye, nothing
speaks as bad as false teeth. hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil.
Lesbians got their sperm by mail. Mickey mouse brand. New drug manufactured
from transmission fluid and rabbit pellets. Blew up a nintendo aboard a
Columbian airliner. Urgency. Shentlemen, fletch yr arrows. Like there's
gonna be no tomatoes. We set sail upon our magnum octopus as a bagful of
urchins. Urges? No urchins, see, sea urchins. No, urges, see. A feather
in every bonnet, a chicken in every pot, a girl in every port, any port
in a storm, a victim for every crime. Hi lo. Time to introduce my virus.
Bons. Measure up to. Nothing helps a man as much in these parts as much
as a good set of legs, and if those legs happen to be long to a woman,
then he can ride barefront through the park. Sod 'em and begorra, she wore
a fuckskin bedora, I mean a buckspin fedora. He was a fringe candidate.
Two kids got lost and a guy went down a pipe and found them, and a minute
later they wold have died because the tide was coming in. The kids were
about this high. A born again bartender investigates rumors that purgatory
is a Vatican front to launder drug money. Union Gap. Two lovers in Brussels
sprout fifteen foot flares while kissing in a shopping mall. A shoe box
full of ashes were the sole remains. One if by LAN, zero if by C. Noman
is an i LAN. Tray usketeers. The Zamboni brothers host Radio Antarctica.
Just a hip, scot and a chump away from the greater goodies. Followed by
the Chanson de Roland, Tweeterdedum/Wooferdedee, et le petit PeaVea, twister
of logs. Assalted with a pep talk. Didja get any tail sleeping with Anna
Log? Do those rubbers on your ears prevent hearing aids? Watch out for
the henways. His lawfully wetted wife is wise beyond her ears. What are
the foreparts of a stove? Lifter, leg and polker. Walking up the mountains
without conquering them. Sans-culotte and transcendental mathematics. Dr
Weiner interrupts his study of external genitalia because his wife left
the silverware in the oven while on vacation, and forgot when they returned.
His posthumously published Silliman Lecture text, the Computer and the
Brain, is still a good starting point, even 30 years later. Bullet in fusebox
shoots driver in leg. Did ya ever see anyone drink a caesar thats got a
mickey in it? The dead bird outside the video shop window was a leading
exponent of geometric music. You know, she never even wanted a microwave,
but her kids got together and all chirped in, and now she says she couldn't
live without it. I'm getting off at the bay. Trying to squeeze out the
last line of executable code. Casting into the fissure of women with his
bit part, angle worm, stait jacket. Eyes left him as his nose found him.
Hear little jimmy dickins sing take an old cold tater and wait. Silicon
valley girls with their implants. The easiest surfaces to mimic in computer
animation are synthetics, like plastic. Hair, cloth, skin, all the organic
stuff is the hard part. Never does a man run so fast as when chasing his
car, nor does a woman hear so well as when listening to her fading walkman,
or as when her hat is mistaken for a UFO. His eyes left him in the army
just out ouf boot camp. Boot the system., Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's
tobee. Mid life cruises. Light-cross doughboys. She wears her knickers
down about her knees, the kind sailors like to go to see. Somewhere, outside
the light cone. His revolutionary theories on sexuality led to eventual
disgrace. vivisected behind his back in his animated shorts. When then
was now, we would sit around the table pufing on a doober, and you could
bet your boots off when then was now Can we have a show of hands. Who has
enough memory. Pac man, pack man, with his band of men. Digit goes to Hawaii
- finger in front of the lens. Now hear this. a boom in sound. Look over
there. What's that smell? A taste of your own cooking. Psychologists are
just a step ahead of the psychics in the yellow pages. Mummy in bus, in
hotel fire. IDd by its skeletal records. THE Lessor covenants with the
Lessee for quiet enjoyment Bikini Atoll. Crack the code. Under the microwave,
microwaves going through my head, at least I'm not under intensive care.
Saponification, pontificate. superstition brings bad luck. Rode on the
bus with the grandchild of the man who discovered caramel apples. Invented?
Platonic. One night we looked at the sky for over an hour and discovered
three or four new stars never seen before. My family is average. Sports
fans, work on the railroad, don't say grace. Blew angel. They call me speedo,
but my real name is mister earl. Messages sent to a button. All the old
tv moms and dads end up on game shows. Heaven. Horton hatches the earth.